Growing up, this was never a thing I liked to do. My mom tried so. hard. to get me to help her cook things, so that I might be exposed to the art and perhaps come to enjoy it myself. It was never happening, and I was completely turned off from the idea. She can vouch for this, especially since she now reads this blog nonsense (Hi Mom! School is good. Yes I'm being a good girl. Thanks for sending me that stuff I left at home. Again. Like I always do. Love you!). Anyway, yeah, I like it now. I tried to fight it, but it happened. Against my will, I assure you.
So, today we celebrated my boss' birthday at work. He happens to love Indian food. I happen to make Indian food. Fancy that. For approximately an hour yesterday, I was elbow deep in raw chicken (Yeah, be jealous). At which point it marinated. Followed by being cooked.
Presenting Chicken Tikka Masala:
Forgot to get a picture of it with the rice. My bad. These pictures are all also taken on my phone. Thus, the awesome awesome photo quality. Again, your jealousy is radiating.
On another note, Gilmore Girls makes me laugh. That is all.
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