At long last, the recipe for my famous fruitcake, for which people have been not asking for almost thirty years. 🍞
If a lazy susan doesn’t turn, is it still lazy? Or is it lazier?
A girl walked up to my booth and said, oh, what kind of wood is all this? It smells so good! I told her about the wood but did not tell her that the sweet smell was bug spray someone used to kill the ant colony under my table.
I fear I have made a dangerous mistake: I started watching old episodes of The Great British Baking Show. Until now I had avoided it. Two nights, four episodes, and today I’m in the kitchen baking chocolate potato bread. 🍞
Finished reading: Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky: A London Trilogy (New York Review Books Classics) by Patrick Hamilton 📚 Intertwining stories of ordinary, miserable people in 1930s London, told with depth, sensitivity, and a light enough touch to be really entertaining.
Bottomless apple pie. Technically a cobbler, I suppose.
Walking the dog Sunday afternoon in my tweed jacket I realized that what divides me from nearly all of my neighbors is encapsulated by the fact that I put on nice clothes when I’m not working.
Meanwhile, a pizza. There has been a lot of pizza this fall, in part because with the kids off to college bread doesn’t get eaten and I have to do something with the sourdough. I keep fiddling with it, but this one was really good. 🍞
Some days this is what the wood gives you.