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Growing up, I was a super picky eater. I was one of those kids whose food couldn’t touch any other food on the plate. (I know, I know, I was awful. Mom, if you’re reading this – thank you for putting up with me as a kid!! I love you!!). In fact, when I became a vegetarian at the age of 14, my mom all but gave up trying to cook for me… but it was this culinary independence that spurred my love for cooking. And now, at the age of 22, I’ll pile ten different foods into a dinner bowl (touching!!) with the best of them. But even after so many years, I haven’t entirely shaken my food idiosyncrasies. For example, I don’t like to eat cold food that’s meant to be hot. Cold pizza? No way. Lukewarm soup? Get outta here. But for some reason, the one hot thing I can tolerate cold is pasta salad.
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