We got to cooking.
Their loft kitchen is a dream. They have a stainless steel island the size of a twin bed, natural light streaming in from floor-to-ceiling windows and plates and bowls and cutlery that match!! This was an apartment for two, not the mismatched twenty-something kind.
I said I'd get married just to register for the stuff. (*Clearly indicates that I'm nowhere near ready for marriage).
Didi indicated that skipping a day-drinking event is the first sign of “getting old.” I rambled all of my life updates and she deduced, as my wiser, older cousin that I’m torn between two worlds: one of settling down and one of setting off.
“You’re going to confuse the universe,” she said.
After all of our hard work, we realized that we didn’t even have enough food for leftovers, so we started again. We commented how our grandmothers could have made triple the amount in the same time it took us to make a dozen. I introduced her to Girls, and she let me wear her apron even though we both agreed it was too girly for me. At the end of the afternoon we were both exhausted, but the results were worth it.
Below is our cooking adventure making homemade ravioli with ricotta cheese & parsley stuffing. Similar recipe version here. Enjoy! x
|^^Someone is in need of a TAN^^|