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Saturday
1 September 200112 25 pm pdt [ chef Rachel ]
Last night I dreamt that my mother was driving us down Topanga Canyon Blvd. to a cooking class that was being held at a strip mall on the corner of Topanga and PCH, where there is currently a gas station. Then for some reason she was driving up Topanga Canyon Blvd. and she needed to turn around. She stopped in the middle of the road and I said, "You can go now," because I could see up the curves that no one was coming and that she would have time to make the necessary three-point turn. "You can go now," I repeated, but she didn't move. "Go now!" She missed the opening. People started to pile up behind her and honk incessantly. Finally she continued up the road, and instead of the sheer drop into the creek there was a muddy shoulder of grass where she pulled off and turned around.
At the cooking class, they told her she couldn't attend because she was five minutes late. She got furious, and finally they allowed he in. We began cooking, and I deep fried some delicate little mushrooms and learned various other recipes. At the end of the class, I took some chopsticks and some other long sticks we had been using in the class home with me to practice with. As we left, my mom announced that she had hated the class and had learned nothing.
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