I was in Amsterdam, cooking a stir-fry for a house full of people, when I got the news about Tupac. I had stepped into the restroom for a moment. Midstream, one of my best friends started pounding on the door, hollering, "Oh my God, they shot 'Pac! They shot 'Pac!" What, who, huh? "They don't shoot people in Amsterdam," I mumbled to myself, in a fog of disbelief and confusion. I zipped up my pants, washed my hands and ran out of the bathroom, still unsure of what my man was saying. It was true. One of rap music's favorite sons had been gunned down in a car in Las Vegas while sitting next to one of the sketchiest men in the history... More >>>