Sometimes, it's really great food - like when I go out and get soup dumplings with my friends.
Sometimes it's food I used to think was good, and then I had real food (Domino's Pizza is just sad now... dollar pizza is much better, and, y'know, a dollar.)
Sometimes it's food I am really proud of. Last night my friends and I stayed in and made pasta with chicken and spinach in tomato sauce, as well as couscous.
I'm a fairly decent cook, so I made the chicken and spinach and then seasoned the sauce. I used a lot of garlic, plenty of basil, some oregano, some sage, and a little thyme.
Sam (one of my friends) decided he was going to make couscous to go with all of this, and it came out pretty well. I'm not a huge couscous eater, but he did it with lemon, sage, and rosemary so it was rather nice.
So we had this big fancy meal, Sam, Erica and I. It was wonderful. People commented on how good it smelled, on how nice it looked, congratulated us for being able to cook. (The photos, in order, are mine, Erica's, and Sam's - as you can see, he stole one of my plates. That's a common theme in college friendships here in the dorms, you use stuff from whoever's room is closest.)
All that said, I just made cup noodles wrong. They're utterly inedible. I have no idea what I did wrong.
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