i am a hopeless urbanite, living in the capitol hill neighborhood of seattle. it is a funky, diverse, bohemian vibe with lots of great restaurants, thrift shops and cafes. i am a social worker by trade, working in the field of mental health. love my work and clients. i belong to a local darkroom housed in an old established studio on the hill. there are about 11 separate artist studios and 20 or so of us in the darkroom. we have open studios thrice yearly and i love being surrounded by such provocative, talented artists. i believe being inspired to create is one of the best gifts we give each other. cooking is an art and i get great satisfaction from it...as do my friends and family :) i love cooking in my little kitchen up high, looking out at skyscrapers with the city streaming below...cheers everyone and GET YER COOK ON!! i like baking most anything, love the way the apartment smells. i like doing rubs on meats using the herbs from my garden. after my girlfriends and i go dancing i love to come back to my apartment late at night and make them strawberry buckwheat pancakes and scrambled eggs with havarti cheese and rosemary. my dad was an excellent cook...not taking anything away from mom but dad would make sunday breakfast, it was tradition in our house growing up. he did these amazing scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon and onion. my younger sis can make them exactly the way he did, god love her. after he retired, dad rocked some really good baked bread, too. he used a baking machine but it was still awesome, especially his cinnamon raisin. mom did homemade ice cream when we were kids, still remember her cranking that handle and the wait was excruciating, haha. she's into soups now and makes a really good southwest chicken soup. my parents both experimented when we were growing up; asian (they were wok freaks in the late 70s), mexican (i fix dad's chicken enchilada casserole for my clients and they love it), italian...all in all, we ate pretty healthy and diverse and didnt have a lot of junk around. attempting to make tapioca in the 6th grade...the tragedy was my poor brother's face as he tried to be kind and eat it while i'm hissing "you dont have to eat it if you dont like it"