Last week, I turned 21. I know, right? No, I didn’t skip a grade. I’m just, um, young for my age. Even though I feel like I’ve been 40 since I was 3.
Not anymore! Now I’m a normal person who can go to bars and shows and do whatever I want and pay the bills and get health insurance and go to graduate school. (Am I neurotic, or what?) So for my birthday, in recognition of this sudden onset of adulthood, we had a tripartite celebration. Part I was a low-key venture to the East Side for a beer at Red House. Part II was a party at Creekside, downtown:
Part III was on Friday, a trip to Fino (courtesy of my parents: thanks, again, Mommy & Daddy!). Here is a list of all the things we ate (you should know by now that I am totally obsessed with food):
salmon tartare, mint tzatziki, eggplant spread, grilled pita bread, the most amazing crackers i’ve ever had in my life, fried goat cheese balls with red onion jam and honey, bacalao fritters, moules frites, duck confit phyllo cigars, grilled calamari with gigante beans, feta and spinach flatbread with raisins and pine nuts, fattoush with pumpkin and beets, greek salad, lamb tagine with beets and couscous, almond torta, milk chocolate budino, passionfruit panna cotta.
And afterwards, we all had to take naps.