In different version of my life, I left Sydney for New York, not London. I would have sent the words yes please instead of no thank you as a response to the acceptance letter I received from NYU, I would have hung out in Brooklyn rather than Bloomsbury and probably wouldn't have been who I am today. Although I missed out on seeing what that choice would have resulted in, it's not something I mourn, but it will always be a city I miss.
In my month of cooking inspired by the cities I love, I had to do New York as it is a place that truly taught me how to eat. At eighteen I went for a winter and walked everywhere to find the best of what I considered New York classics. Countless pizzas, bagels, cheesecakes, and deli sandwiches were sampled in my quest and all written up in my notebook. I went to Dean and DeLuca and bought ingredients I couldn't afford to bake a pie for friends and made use of many diners 24/7 hours with slices of cherry pie à la mode and grilled cheese. I felt so small and lost back then but in these moments of bliss with something good to eat and my notebook nearby I felt like I was seeing myself for the first time.
In a few weeks I had mastered subway changes, tipping, and the situations in which to harden the R's on words so people could understand my accent and without realising had decided what I wanted to do with my life. Nearly ten years later, the path feels like I mapped it out on the back of a napkin even though at the time I didn't know the destination.
As I write this curled up on the sofa with a cat on my toes and a slice of cheesecake by my side I want to thank you for reading. Writing this for you all is the highlight of my week and it's such a thrill seeing you cook from it and reading all of your messages. If you're feeling a little lost this week, remember you can find food that brings you back to yourself, in the tastes we love are who we are.
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