As much as I don’t like to admit it, my approach to cooking probably reflects my personality and general approach to life, which has always been a bit…all or nothing. I’m either standing in a hot kitchen for 10 consecutive hours combining a bunch of ingredients I’ve never seen before into a science experiment until I push myself to the limits of my emotional and physical bandwidth, or I’m barely reheating old rice in a pan and eating it with a fried egg on top (i.e., I was too lazy to poach one). This past weekend, I found myself creating packets of Thai prawn curry in banana leaves and cooking them on a charcoal grill in 90 degree heat and then churning my own ice cream, thickened the old fashioned way with gum mastic and flavored with rosewater and cardamom. At 8pm on Sunday, as I watched the ice cream going around and around in my mixer, my roommate heard me whisper, “I think I overcommitted again.”
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