All about Michele

I told my sister to read my blog.

"I love it! Although, I should be on here somewhere. I do eat all your food." So this entry is all about Michele. Just the way she likes it.

Meet Michele.

Michele is the youngest out of the three of us. She is 24, four years younger than me, and we are often confused for twins – which means she looks old, or I look young. I prefer the latter.

When I think of Michele, I think of wasabi dumplings.

Although I hate her Tony Soprano-esque-poke-around stirring technique, Michele is coming into her own as a lover of food (good thing she has such an awesome mentor). Armed with her Bon Appetit gift subscription, and panini press (you're welcome), she is a fatty in training. Before she knows it, she'll be buying kohlrabi at the farmers market and waxing poetic about the merits of a grassy EVOO. She moved back in with our parents about a month ago and already has them going to better supermarkets to buy organic groceries. Huzzah I say.

Michele is lucky that she has me to pick up her slack. And by slack I mean ice cream since she is lactose intolerant.

And ok, fine, I'm lucky to have her too.