The first thing I cooked was nothing fancy: curry roasted asparagus and baby portabellos, snap peas sautéed with garlic and Bragg's, and brown rice.
As leftovers on the second night it was delicious yet again: both cold and re-heated.
The third night it occurred to me that when you don't have roommates you shouldn't continue to cook in such massive quantities.
On the fourth night I developed severe animosity towards everything in my plate.
On the fifth night I delivered the rest to said former roommates and insisted they take me out to dinner.
More to come, just in smaller batches...
What does that mean to you? New kitchen, new dishes, new photos...