Welcome to my internal panic attack. You see, once you've spent time and money on a culinary education, people think you're a "chef." You feel like you're expected to contribute more than a fruit salad to dinner parties. Of course, this is probably all in my head. My family and friends would be perfectly welcoming if I showed up with some chopped watermelon and pineapple. But in my brain, I psych myself out. "They know I'm capable of something better! I have to make something! It's gotta be good!"
Israeli couscous is my secret weapon. I take it to dinner parties all the time, and people think I'm all fancy-pants (I am). But it's not too fancy, because if any other guest is a bit leery of it, you just say "oh, it's just little bits of pasta. Try it!" And as soon as people hear "pasta," they stop listening to you babble and start shoveling it onto their plate. And then you've won. You've won the dinner party. —foxeslovelemons
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