With all the talk about women and cooking, I thought I would share one of my little secret desires.

After eating my country pork ribs in sticky barbque sauce, my favorite Aunt asked why I didn’t go to culinary school and open a restaurant. I don’t want the pressure or responsibility of owning a restaurant, and I don’t want to spend years in a hot kitchen as some male chef’s underling. And I don’t want to be stuck in the kitchen. The thing I like best about cooking for people is their reactions to it.

So I love throwing dinner parties. Someone once described my parties as barefoot bohemian affairs with gorgeous food and much wine. That pretty much sums it up. I’ve had as many as 17 people in my little apartment sitting cross legged on the floor balancing plates of yumminess. I love that.

So when I heard about this Honk Kong phenomenon of “Secret Kitchens” I got all dopey eyed. Instead of running a restaurant, these people throw little dinner parties in their homes for pay. I would love to do the same thing here and I doubt that there is anyone else in the city who can do both vegan and gluten free meals that meat eaters and bread fanatics love.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I can charge my friends for eating here and I have no idea how one would go about drumming up customers for a secret business (shhhhhhhhh- don’t tell the health inspector).