Happy new year.


Hello again.  I’m trying something new over here.  I’ve had a difficult few months – without getting into details, there have been some significant changes in my family life that have thrown my life off it’s axis.

I happen to be someone who really loves beginning of the year energy – I love all the resolutions and the hope to improve ourselves and our lives, and I take it pretty seriously.  This spot of the internet has been the focus of a lot of my New Years energy, and I’ve been thinking about what is actually important to me, and why I’ve stopped feeling driven to write over here.  I think it’s because the recipes I post here started feeling divorced from my real life, which has mostly been filled with cooking large meals for people I love.  These meals have generally been fairly simple, relatively focused on being affordable and reasonably healthy, with the occasional 2-day lasagna thrown in for good measure.

My best and most important New Years resolution is to cook a community dinner every Thursday.  This resolution feeds into my larger resolution, which is to rekindle my old excitement about meeting new people.  Is it sad if I tell you that I haven't felt very excited about meeting new people in the last year?  It's true.  I've been a lil closed off.

My dream for this dinner situation is that I will cook a simple meal every week and invite my friends and acquaintances so they can meet each other.  My other dream is that I will write about those dinners here because I want this place to reflect my actual life. So:  here is my actual life.

Last week I made vegan coconut lentil soup and it was wonderful and hot and comforting.  Thursday was the day after classes started and it was warm (wut) and grey and horrible.  I walked back from class and stopped at Med Deli to buy a couple of ingredients that I needed.  They happen to have my very favorite bulk bin situation.  See below.


On day two of my last semester of college I was filled with an almost nauseating anxiety about what I am going to do with my life or at least, like, the first six months after I graduate.  The practice of chopping/stirring/seasoning/talking to real humans filled me with immense relief.  I think I will be ok.