As a single mother of two (divorcée?) and full-time food editor and writer, I often feel like a bit of a head-case. This is my life: Highly glamorous (fancy restaurants, multiple courses, paired wines), utterly unglamorous (on my hands and knees, cleaning rice off the floor, FindingNemo on in the background).
This past Labor Day weekend is a good example: After three nights of visiting a good friend in LA, which included a lot of wonderful food (from a pilgrimage to have Din Tai Fung soup dumplings out in Arcadia to a fantastic 20 person dinner in a converted warehouse at a “secret restaurant” a la the Ghetto Gourmet to a midnight stop at a hip Korean restaurant where no one spoke English), I returned to my other life.
I think these photos say it all. (Notice: Wine in both.)
Glamorous: Friends applauding the chef of the "Secret
Restaurant" in Los Angeles.
Unglamorous: The aftermath of a five-minute
dinner of steak, corn and rice with two children.
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