See, for the past three years, I’ve been cooking in a hot second floor kitchen, experimenting with recipes, and sharing my creations with several roommates. For four years prior to that, I was eating all my daily meals in a dining hall with close friends. As much as I value those years of community, and I truly do, I recently accomplished something that I wasn’t sure would happen during my time living in New York.
I got my own kitchen.
That kitchen is part of my very own apartment and initially I was worried that half of the living space is made up of counters and appliances. But then I realized that my kitchen IS my living room. Even for someone living on her own, the kitchen is the center of the home – for me it’s just literal. Add a spacious bedroom, full bath, and a true walk-in closet and you’ve got a single girl’s dream place. (Not to mention free utilities and laundry).
So while a simple pasta dinner is nothing unusual for my evening menu, taking a seat at my own dining room table to have a bite of that first meal and a sip of Pennsylvania Dutch birch beer (in honor of the ultimate homeland) really is far beyond special.

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