Last night I watching The Naked Chef with my apartmentmate Jason (who sings and plays The Beatles on guitar in the evenings – excellent!) and it suddenly hit me. I really don’t cook on my home ground. Everything’s so much faster paced here; I’m always grabbing a bite on the go. No slow food here. I miss the evenings at Stusta, when one of us would cook (preferably not me, if you can remember what a nervous wreck I get and my noodle surprise, eh, Manuel?) and the rest chill or look on or download a movie or .mp3′s.

That was the life.

I haven’t had a good carbonara in a long time. Chi mangia bene, mangia Italiano. Those who eat well, eat Italian. I guess I could be eating better.