Food... and its complete and utter relevance to a university student.

Food.

...food

Food.


The past three days have really been food-intensive for me. First, Anaïk and I have our wine, cheese, and baguette night. The following day, Rachel and I are talking about cooking and our different food backgrounds, which then evolves into food-porn, a term that Socorro and others have never heard (crazy, right?). Yesterday (well, turning into this morning), we brought the rest of the bread in our rooms, what cheese we had, and made a little French bread-and-cheese pow-wow in the middle of the commons block.

There is always the joke that a university student will either eat anything or just scrounge for free food at every corner... and that is pretty true. Except, recently it has become that I will scrounge for any good food. I think my friends and I are becoming cheap food snobs. And you know what? I am fine with that.

The one thing I am looking forward to is cooking, is a kitchen. Christmas break, I foresee it now, will be filled with smells and steam of all sorts from the stove, the oven constantly going. I cannot tell you how many times I have uttered the phrase, "boy, I cannot wait until next year. I mean, a kitchen!" I hear people griping about how there is no meal plan, that they will need to feed themselves. I cannot imagine it any other way, I am dying for a stove now.

Honestly, I am forgetting where this post was going since the idea of food just kind of caught me off-guard. Hell, I am done with my exams, I feel pretty great. In the meantime, here are some shots that I took of raspberries, my favourite berry by far barr none.

Gosh, I could have a relationship with raspberries.

UPDATE: OH! Remember why I wrote this...
Every time I eat, my friends make a comment on how much I consume, like a vacuum. I swear, I am like a bottomless pit. Back when I had a schedule, every morning I would get up, visit the caf, load up my tray with a waffle, some fruit, a yoghourt, juice x2, a danish, and some scrambled eggs. That was my breakfast, and I was content. But, I would go through the line and look around to see trays with maybe one danish, some fruit, a yoghourt here and there. Sometimes there would be a person with like two plates, but that was rare. Then, I would come through with several plates, a bowl or two, and a couple of cups. I would feel so judged. And the reason for that story is this gif:

Yes, I am Patrick Star.