the curry cure

My Emma is in a airplane somewhere, probably still over the united states aat this point. The fact that she is gone fills me with fear, sadness, ect. My mommy instincts are telling me to hurry up and get on a plane and go after her, but of course I can't do that. This trip was planned, I let her go. It's a strange, helpless sort of feeling.

So I must distract. I have decided to cook up a big Indian feast for the missionnaries, who come to dinner on the first saturday of the month. Chris and

I looove Indian food; we had our favorite places in Salt Lake, but there are just no Indian restraunts here. So, I have a few cookbooks, and am trying to learn to cook it myself. But it has been several months since I have tryed any of the recipies, because my eating disorder was telling me i couldn't eat Indian food. Well, I have been doing much better this last little while and have been taking more risks and challenges, and am ready to dive back in.

So, this afternoon, I put on my favorite Bowie cd, made some green chutney, and mixed up some dough for naan bread, which is currently rising. I am insanely excited about this, as i love naan bread but have never attempted to make it. Later, I will make samosas and Balti chicken.

I love cooking Indian food because it is more like art then cooking; more of a hobby then a household task. There is such a focus on the blending of spices and flavors, there are so many different steps and techinques that are layered and blended in, and when you are eating the finished product you can taste all of that, almost like eating a story, or poetry. If that makes any sense. I really can lose myself while I'm cooking Indian food.

Which is kind of what I need right now. To lose myself, but in a healthy way.