Food

I have always hated food in a way. Its gross. Random stuff coming out of the ground and getting mashed up and slimy in your mouth. Gross. Too many combinations, too many textures. Gross.
But I also really love food. Since I've left for college food has become a great comfort for me. This isn't exactly healthy but nevertheless, I have a few in particular that warm my heart. 
1. Ice cream. This will forever be the love of my food life. And forever be what I eat for breakfast on my birthday.
2. Butter. Paula Dean and I should be friends. I'd say that about explains it.
3. Garlic. Pasta, bread, mashed potatoes..it goes in everything.
4. Pistachios. I don't get it either but no matter what when I want a snack I turn to them. 
5. Hard Dough Bread. This is a new obsession and heart warmer. My roommates claim it's only sentimental value that makes it taste good, but no matter what PB&J in my mind will always be made with hard dough bread from Jamaica.


Not only so I enjoy cooking but I really enjoy cooking of rather people. I think this stems from a desire for hearing that I'm a good cook and the fact that Beseda's feed people. Its just our thing. We love to host, we love to make people laugh, and we love to feed people (even if they don't want to eat). The thing I love about food is that its such a cultural link. No matter where you go you will always be tied to the region that has the food you ate as a child. Being in Denver kills me because BBQ here isn't BBQ. Its dry, tough, and under sauced, not to mention no one here uses Sweet Baby Ray's. St. Louis style pizza is unheard of and there is always groaning when the caf makes thin crust pizza. For me its like going back home, but for them it just means they have to grab twice as many slices. And toasted raviolis. Apparently St. Louis is the only place where these fried little squares of joy exist. 


Thinking about food makes me miss home because no one here understands what good food is or how to make it. Sharing a kitchen with 5 other women who don't know how to cook and most certainly have no regard for my kitchen utensils drives me absolutely crazy. I love living with roommate but I can't wait to have my own kitchen where things are organized, things are out away in the right place, my stuff is in a cabinet I can reach, the trash is never overflowing, the counters are clean, the dishes are washed or at least not caked with goop, and my utensils will remain un-melted, un-burned, and looking good. So much angst over such a small kitchen. I'd say I have a control problem when it comes to this area of the house. But what can I say? Its my favorite room of a house. Its where all the magic happens.