Let Them Eat Cake... I'll Have Chorizo

There is no fast food in Manizales. Sure, you can get comidas rapidas and some damn good perros calientes after a night of salsa dancing and rum-drinking, but everything takes time. Even El Corral, a hamburger joint in the mall (and not a side restaurant, but the first real "food court" in sight at the Cable Centro Commercial) gives out a buzzer. Things just aren't fast here. Tranquilo.

I cook for my roommates every night. It has become a convenient diversion to the fact that I have still not found a steady job. But on the other hand... when have I ever had a steady job? My responsibility right now, while paying $100 a month for an apartment in the best neighborhood of Manizales, is to create. During the day, I write. 

At night, I cook. I have realized that I am very much in love with both types of creation. There are two men in "Man"izales that I am absolutely in love with; Mr. Pen and Mr. Spoon. God, are they handsome.

During the day I focus on articles for various travel magazines and blogs. Every couple days, I chug away at a novel collaboration called Letters to the Working Girl. The book is an exquisite idea and I am lucky enough to be working with a dear friend on the project, but it is a long project with no real end in sight. Speaking of long projects, I'm also writing a musical; I've always loved a good challenge. Today, I wrote a glowing review of Colombia, enhanced by my own blatant love for the country, for my local newspaper. It should be published sometime this week.

But at night... I cook.

Thai Shrimp with Sriracha. American Hamburgers with Bleu Cheese and Sauteed onions. Chicken-on-the-Bone Curry with Sprouts, Potatoes, and Yogurt. My own family's recipe of Homemade Beef Spaghetti Sauce over Angel Hair Pasta. Tomorrow I'm planning (I'm PLANNING my meals, people!) to make "Breakfast for Dinner"; egg frittata with veggies, chorizo, and maple syrup pancakes. My friend and roommate, Julia-from-Arkansas, is fond of breakfast and never has time to cook before running out the door for work.

Cooking is an art. It is creation and whimsy. Smells mix with sounds and precision blends with pure emotion. I am in love.

Great. Now it's one in the morning, and I'm hungry. Tomorrow. I'll write and cook more tomorrow.  Maybe I'll make a cake?