So last night, for my friend E’s birthday, we went to a cooking class. It was great fun! The teacher’s apartment is beautiful and she has a great setup. We made what was called the “Light Asian Menu” (or something similar) with Vietnamese spring rolls, peanut noodles, salmon and Shitake mushrooms with a sake-based glaze, and a lemongrass-mint sorbet. It was all quite yummy and it was interesting to see someone explain food to a group of people. And the entire time I kept thinking…I want this woman’s job!
One of the girls I was talking to told me that she isn’t too crazy about cooking because her mother was so stressful and precise in the kitchen that the whole experience became a chore. I already feel bad for our little tyke…the girl’s not going to enjoy cooking much, is she?