Last Thursday my roommate (David), our friend (Jack) and I cooked dinner in our flat (apartment, whatever. British colony, remember?). The food was delicious! And it's strange, every time I cook a successful meal...I get really inspired to cook more often, but that luster really wears off fast. I wonder if I have a string of successful meals, can I maintain that inspiring feeling? That might be asking too much...
Here's a recap of our glutinous evening:
Action Jack(son)..Jack in Action. He's a master chef! I asked where he learned to cook. His response: "Youtube." The interweb is a beautiful thing, my friends.
Chicken Wings..China Style! David's Dish. Salty as ever, but delicious (not nutritious).
Shout out Mickey Avalon's hilarious (albeit explicit) rap song:
My Dish--the least tasty of them all.
Yo' Dish--off the wall!
Jack's dish (foreground)--garlic steamed bok choy--was finished like everyone's favorite Nicholas Cage/Angelina Jolie feature. Mine (background) was a lame attempt to recreate some of my favorite American Chinese food. Fried String beans and Mongolian Beef. A bit oily, but not bad. Still, it was finished only after two hours of chatting and picking at food. Sorry to disappoint you, Mom. I'll do better next time :(
The final product.
Great food! Great company! Life is good...
Edit: Jack scooped the NYTimes! Adding to his overall baller effect.
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