Julie & Julia

So, as I mentioned earlier, I've been reading the book "Julie & Julia," and I love it. I love it because it's real, as in, it's about this crazy 30 year-old who wants to accomplish something solely for her sanity. I also love it because it's about FOOD.

This post is dedicated to Julie. Why? Because I'm now a chef. I made my very first chicken curry today!
I decided to do it spontaneously yesterday, when my dad called me.
"Katherine, we are watching Glee and eating pizza that I grilled. It's delicious."
"Dad! That is awesome...save me some pizza. I'm making Chicken curry tomorrow."
"What? No way! That sounds like a great plan. I'll make the na'an."

Just like that. For those of you who don't know, na'an is that delicious, buttery, Indian flat bread they put out in baskets at Indian restaurants. So, I was going to make chicken curry. I had the recipe, and I'd done it before with my mom. It was going to actually happen. What? Me being a domestic Indian woman? (Is it just me, or is referring to yourself as a woman when you're 19 completely weird? I want to call myself a girl, but then that seems nondescript because I'm almost 20. Weird identitiy crisis tangent. Sorry.)

After sleeping in (a summer luxury I am going to miss), I went to the dentist. And then to Kroger. I felt so..grown-up. It was also a preview of what's to come this fall, when I take on the kitchen in my apartment- every. single. day. I hope I don't regret dropping the mealplan. And, I promise I will only blog about interesting dishes. (And not bore you with preparing easy mac or something).

Anyway, the chicken curry turned out pretty good, especially for my first time. Nothing can touch my mom's though. God, she is so good. Maybe that's how it should be anyway. I should just tweak the recipe, so it's different, and it's not like trying to compete with hers. Also, note that chickens are pretty gross to wrestle. I didn't actually wrestle the chicken, but my poultry knife did. It was intense.