I have a confession to make: For the first 18 years living in New York City as a single woman I turned on my oven maybe a dozen times to cook a dish. It usually involved re-heating leftovers from a meal taken elsewhere the night before. Mostly I stored my over abundance of shoes in the unused oven and turned on the stove top to boil water or steam vegetables. That’s about it. I took my meals out; or I ordered in. Simply put: I loved to eat and hated to cook. Living in New York City and working in the food and
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