I've been missing Dublin more and more as I return to cooking. Two days ago I made a tofu curry, and I wanted more than anything as I ate it while reading 'Eat, Pray, Love' (the book that made its rounds through the flats last semester), was someone (Beth, Amanda) to taste it, to eat with me and laugh. I'm sitting outside the kitchen now, waiting for the Lemon Pudding Cake (courtesy of Vegan Dad) to bake so I can prove to my mom that I can indeed cook more than just those crazy chickpeas, and all I can remember is the first/last time I made that cake- still drunk, Easter morning, for our wonderful brunch.

I guess it's no surprise that food triggers these memories- I mean, by the end of the semester I was crazy my mom's zitti and diner food like no one's business (and believe me, it became everyone's business since I bitched so much about it). I still associate the smell of wet parsley with my grandmother (but maybe that's just a generic old folks smell) and cleaning her home out after her death years ago. And now when I look to moving to Williamsburg, I'm basing living off of making sure I have access to kitchen (which is why I'll be living off campus).

Food is a comfort, and a refuge, and a joy. And I hate not being about to share that with those I love, when I want to.

Labels: food, ireland recap, transferring, williamsburg