Many of us have heard the dreaded ‘So… any idea what you’re doing next?’. It makes me a little irate, anxious, and on the verge of a minor breakdown, as you can probably tell. Two years of my undergraduate degree have somehow disappeared with the blink of an eye – I am older but seem to be none the wiser.
I associate with soup, the fiery plains of eastern Rajasthan, the smokiness of coal roasted jeera in a Kadai pan, and the creators of a warm, comforting dish full of love, compassion, unity and humility.
Nigella’s flourless chocolate cake and custard cream hearts are absolute game-changers, and have never failed to fool people into thinking I understand how to operate in a kitchen.
So here I am, tackling this morally ambiguous minefield head
on with an investigation into ‘get withs’ and whether or not they really are feminist.
Dear...
“So, how’s uni going?”
I imagine this question evokes the same kind of intense existential anguish as being asked how you’re dealing with the inevitability...
After a week of controversy and sedition, last week’s John Evelyn has been summarily executed by the Cherwell editorial team. Though Draconian, the crime...
