On cooking

I hate jarred pasta sauce. They all seem to taste the same. The tomato basil is just like the wild mushroom, the bolognese like that other company's bolognese. Maybe I'm spoiled. After all, my mother refused to feed us anything out of a jar growing up. Her signature sauce (I'm not allowed to print the recipe here, for fear of legal action), along with her famous ground turkey meatballs, is to die for. The meat sauce she whips up with some paste, sauce, and diced whole tomatoes is just as good with the right combination of spices. Even her primavera and improvised dishes seem to always come out delicious.

There's definately an art to cooking, and my mother mastered it years ago. As for me, I never considered myself a chef but recently entered that realm of culinary experimentation upon moving into my first apartment this past August. Even with the world's tiniest kitchen, it's been fun to try new recipes, some of which friends and family have raved about.