Food Porn
Here, try this. No, really- you'll love it, I promise. Seriously, it's like, insane how good this is. I added some coconut milk, lemongrass and extra ginger and I swear- I SWEAR- it's like, oh my god, I can't even tell you. Here, taste! Ruth thrust her hand out in front of James, the spoon dripping with some sort of thai inspired saucy creation of the day. James hated thai food, abhorred it, after 8 years of back to back undergrads where he subsisted on Ginger take out and bad hot pots almost every second night. But he loved Ruth, so it was something he sucked up and muscled through. Ruth lived to cook. She had more cookbooks than people had literature or socks and underwear combined. Food Porn, she called it. Every morning Ruth would pore over a different book, planning out the evening or weekend special. Nothing made her happier than hours spent slaving over a hot stove, dicing tubers and weeds, soaking and sprouting and dehydrating all kinds of foul, or tasteless, i...