Two of the most incorrect things ever said about me because I was born missing a hand: that I wouldn’t be able to drive and that I wouldn’t be able to cook. In the car, the only thing I’m not excellent at is parallel parking, but that’s just because I’m a fool from Florida. As for the kitchen, let’s just say there’s practically a waiting list for a dinner party at my house. The kitchen is where I pour both my anxiety and my enthusiasm for life into various culinary projects—with the help of my favorite tools.
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