My sweet friend Meenakshi had a few friends over a few days ago for a cooking party. There was no big theme or reason, just a few hours of kitchen bliss.
No, really, we cooked for like four hours. It was amazing.
Meena, as she lets me call her now, invited me and the kids (although I left the little one at home; you’re welcome). School was just starting, and this would be a welcome distraction for my daughter, who was a little nervous about starting middle school. Plus, she kinda rocks in the kitchen, and this was no different.
We were such the diverse group — different nationalities, religious beliefs and cultural traditions — and honestly, that’s what made it so awesome. In a world where people tend to yell to each other what they should be, we were able to cook and eat together, sharing things that were important to us.
For Meena, probably the most important sentiment shared was the food itself. Not only did the food reflect her own heritage, it screamed her own personal ethic: cook at home. Whether it’s baked chicken or baba ghanoush, make it yourself. Your body will thank you.
And no, it doesn’t usually take four hours. We just enjoyed the process that much!
I’ll share a recipe or two from our dinner soon. For now, feast on the images and let me know in the comments below what a home-cooked meal means to you.