Ahhh, this guy. We've come along way since the fingertip incident of '12...

Oh–you don't know our story?

We met on a cold winter's eve when, in a moment of impulsion to puree a soup , I ducked into Sur La Table Soho. There he was, in the back lefthand corner of the store, dashing in Yves Klein blue.

Needless to say, he came home with me that night.

Together we explored cooking like never before. The way he operated was just so fast, smooth, and... impressive. During those first weeks, there was no reason to even leave the apartment. After all, the finest restaurants in town couldn't compare to what we were making at home.

But then one night, everything changed. In hindsight, I blame myself for getting too comfortable too quickly. I was naive. I didn't see his violent side. Between the blood and the stitches, I thought I'd never look at him–look at mashed cauliflower–the same again.

As it does, time healed.

Though my loved ones warned against it, I eventually gave back into the desires. And immediately it was apparent how much we'd both learned from our mistakes. Do I remain cautious to this day? Sure. But that said, it's undeniable that this new chapter has been more exhilarating than ever.

The lemon herb sauce... the yellow split pea...the tahinis... the BALSAMIC VINAIGRETTES!!!!! It's just another dimension of delicious.

Go ahead–try any of the above and tell me it wasn't worth it.