My favorite word lately, it means "not embarrassed, disconcerted, or ashamed." It's the sort of attitude I'm hoping to adopt in the kitchen as I figure out just how to cook for myself.
I love food. Really. I adore going to the market, and I am perfectly content with spending more money on food than anything else, though I'm trying to be cautious of quality over quantity. I spent four months abroad in France last fall, living with a family of seven and a host mom who happened to be a cooking school teacher. As a 21-year-old student, however, my diet consists of whatever happens to be at the intersection of ambition and convenience. I always peruse recipe websites and cooking magazines, yet I often throw together whatever I can before all my food goes rotten, even if it means eating a basket of figs in two days.
While this may become just another started-and-forgotten blog about something I'm currently "into" (as well as another use for my new iPhone 4 and longstanding love of food photography), here I am. Cooking for one.
To not gain any more weight (losing some would be great). To really understand foods that go together. To be one of those people with a well-stocked pantry that I could actually whip together something for a barbecue. Or a brunch. Or a birthday celebration. (Though the event isn't required to start with a b.) To get to the point (hopefully, eventually) to throw things together that just-so-happen to be swoonworthy.