As a teenage girl in '90s New York City, I spent an inordinate amount of time skulking in the dark corner booths of diners. Though people such as I were part and parcel of those roach motels of yesteryear, they staff still expected us to order something; those bottomless cups of black coffee didn’t pay the bills.
I’m fairly certain my love of camping kitchen gear grew out of my childhood obsession with buying things for my dollhouse. I wasn’t a fan of playing with the dollhouse itself. The dolls were creepy. But stocking that tiny kitchen was pure joy. All those tiny things! The wee cast iron skillet. The mini mini fridge. Those itty bitty strips of bacon. When I started camping a decade back, I found the same thrill in buying camping gear.
My mom's a goddess in the kitchen and can whip up inventive meals without following a recipe. But she does have a set of rules, and one of the things she always makes sure to do is prick eggs before boiling them.