We need to feed ourselves once and a while to keep the gears sweaky and moving. Here's a guide to cooking and eating for the Young, Broke, and Restless.
Small Plates by Olivia Starkie
Honey Traps and Pasta Sauce
“What’s your honey trap?”
I looked up from my drink, something with gin and lemonade that was beading the coffee cup in my hands with condensation. It was late May and the Midwestern humidity hadn’t quite settled in yet, but my shirt was still sticking to my skin in the early evening heat. I was at a backyard grill party. Corn grilling in its husk filled the air with the smell of burnt grain. The light was hazy from barbecue smoke. I’d been drinking the gin and lemonade concoction for an hour, eating potato salad and making small talk.
“What?” I asked the young woman standing in front of me.
She put her hands on her hips. “People make honey traps to catch flies. The flies like the sweetness and then they get sucked in. Everybody has a honey trap.” She looked me up and down. “What’s yours?”
I was twenty years old, had just finished my second year of college, and had not considered that I was capable of having a honey trap. I pretended to think hard about it, even though I knew already the only possible answer. “My cooking, I guess.”
“Your cooking, huh?” The young woman laughed. “What do you cook?”
“Well,” I said, “there’s this pasta sauce.”