from My Kitchen

Did you feel that? I just sent you a great, big hug. A bis, too. As much as I couldn't help but write my last post in humble grief and frustration, I never considered that publishing it would elicit such generous warmth and support. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Now I'd like to balance out the heaviness with a lighter topic: homemade food; another important comfort I appreciate greatly.
After a year without a kitchen, coming home to a stovetop (and counter space) is just about the most wonderful thing in the world. I use it for legitimate meals often. The other day, I even cooked chicken for the first time! Seriously. Though I regularly enjoy it out, I've previously shied away from preparing it myself. I used my mom's basic cutlet recipe on drumsticks: coating each one in flour, dipping into egg, and shaking in a bag with bread crumbs and herbs before placing into a pan with hot oil. They tasted like home.
I'm usually less adventurous (read: cook vegetarian) though. Post-chicken dinner, I brought home a head of red cabbage to braise: cutting it into pieces, adding to a pan already containing a generous amount of butter, topping off with a few tablespoons of water, sprinkling with salt, and cooking at low heat until the liquid is absorbed. Quite the chef, huh? Thank god I prefer simple, seasonal flavors. Honorable mention goes to the apple oatmeal with peanut butter that's been brightening up dreary Parisian mornings.