Friday, December 26, 2008

I'm the Next Top Chef. You Heard it Here First.

As I've mentioned before, my small apartment is kitchenless. The folks over at my realty company have labeled it a "bachelor studio," which I suppose they think makes it sound jazzy & fun. This is, I regret to tell you, not really the case - it's essentially a dorm room, with all the not-so-comfortable comforts of one except that I'm roommate-free & don't have to use a communal shower.

My kitchen-free lifestyle has led, as you can imagine, to much dining out on my part. I'm on a personal mission to find the best chicken kaprow in the tri-state region, so I chow on a lot of Thai, & the folks at the new Submarina in Dupont Circle practically know me by name because I buy their chili three times a week for lunch. Healthy? Doubtful. Cheap? Hardly. But until now, save for making sandwiches every meal of every day, I didn't have tons of options.

And Wednesday, my mom arrived in the District, bearing Chanukah gifts. The loot? A washbasin, a portable range burner, a pot, a pan & a bunch of plates & cutlery. MY MOM IS THE COOLEST, I know. So today we rearranged half my apartment to fit this stuff in, & we promptly whipped up a batch of vegetarian chili that was ahhhmazaing, if I may say so myself. My pseudo-kitchen look like this:


"Where's your microwave, Kate?" I hear you asking. Ahh, my friend, good question. It used to be on that little counter block where the burner is now. But because that's the only spot of counter I have, it's been relocated... here:


Yeah, my microwave is in my closet. What of it? And don't even ask where I drain my pasta. I don't have a kitchen sink & I don't wanna get noodles caught in the bathroom sink, so... well, you can imagine where that leaves me to do my draining! Needless to say, it's probably a safe bet to assume that even with my newfound kitchen wares, I won't be doing much entertaining.
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