I used to dread huge gatherings. Being around any more than three people at a time frequently felt overwhelming, so I stuck to small outings, or I fell quiet. 

However, three weeks ago, my dear co-editor Karis Chen and I executed a long-schemed friend gathering with many people. We had planned for months something grand, elaborate, and incredible. We had longed for exaggerated flamboyance among whimsically joyous company. And on Jan. 3, our vision became reality: Pasta Extravaganza was born. 

Karis and I had twice before practiced making pasta from scratch, mixing & kneading the dough, feeding it through a hand-crank press machine, and boiling it in tiny batches. We gently pat on more flour between each preparational step, then rinse the fresh fettuccine noodles so they don’t stick together. 

Our sauce was perfected from practice: a quality marinara mixed with sauteed onions, minced garlic, heavy cream, a dash of milk, salt, pepper, various dried herbs, and generous handfuls of arugula and parmesan cheese. 

It was the recipe we needed. It was extremely extravagant—and the meal was made even more so with a charcuterie board, Shirley Temples, chicken, and creme brulee. 

After four hours of cooking, shouting, and scurrying about the kitchen, our nine guests were fed bowl after bowl of fresh pasta. 

Looking back, my memory of the event is entirely a blur. All I can remember are the chaotic smiles flashed between Karis and me, as boiling timers went off and our nine friends grew hungrier. I remember hearing the fizz of Sprite mixing with grenadine whisper over the bold chords of piano playing in the living room. My entire memory of Pasta Extravaganza is full of only smiles, laughter, and the yellow wash of my kitchen overhead light—a golden treasure of a memory that I will cherish for a very long time.

But, this gathering was more than just fun. Throughout my life, I had always considered myself a one-on-one warrior. I thrive alongside just a single or a small handful of friends. But, through Extravaganza, I’ve found true bliss among a whole party of people. Finding joy at such a large dinner taught me that I can change, not always from something wrong, but because that’s what life does to you. It changes you, not always for the better, but because it’s inevitable.

That’s definitely something to be grateful for!