Thoughts

I'm a bachelor. I live in an apartment. With my cat (who never helps me cook). And I'm okay with that. What I'm not okay with is having such an old oven that I can't set it to bake a Costco meal to be ready when I get home! If you aren't there, you aren't baking. I suppose I am a tad spoiled after renting from my manager before he and his family arrived in Reno. Now that oven was nice. So I'm contemplating an outfit to my apartment oven to provide room for programmability.

One might ponder: "Senpai Weber, do you ever tire of potstickers?" Without hesitation, I would respond: "Do you ever tire of breathing, student? Potstickers are the breath of one's culinary being..." I suppose that can be literal, as well. No, I cannot tire of those delicately wrapped morsels of meat, steamed and crisped on their bottoms in the likes of any pan. I never will. But the sauce... With that I can experiment. Today I whipped up a sauce made of sesame oil, soy sauce, pepper flakes, honey, and lemon juice. Do not ask me for quantities, I did not write any down. Trust your stomach, pupil.