Every birthday seems to have its own special flavor. When I was 16, the flavor was coconut rum by a campfire in Pender Harbour. At 19 it was roasted chicken and mash potatoes in Boston after a performance by the Blue Man Group. When I was 21 it was my first taste of homemade tagliatelle at a tiny Italian restaurant in Quetzaltenago, Guatemala. Upon turning 24 it was the taste of potluck on West 7th ave in Vancouver (mixed with the laughter of being on the receiving end of the infamous "Cat Song Prank"). At 25 it was cold zarasoba (buckwheat noodles) with tamari and green onions from the corner store in Tokyo. When I turned 27 it was the cold Blanche de Chambly on tap and world cup soccer in Montreal. At 29 it was the taste of brunch lovingly made by my friends and my roommate Ali. At 30 there was blueberry cheesecake, and a month long hunt for the 30 things a girl needs in life, ending up in the Yukon eating caribou and drinking Yukon Gold. At 32 the taste is definitively smokey, strong, blackened, grilled, slow-cooked, sizzling... mmmmm... three little letters to describe the year ahead? BBQ. You're invited.Thanks to all the awesome people who chipped in for this amazing gift! And to those who provided the wheels, the thoughtfulness behind the gift, and the eagerness to go shopping at the butchers. xoxoxo
