A homemaker's kitchen journal
A few weeks ago, a friend asked me if I still do desserts.
There's something about the dog days of summer, particularly those Phoenix-specific ones, where you can say 114°F, without batting an eye.
As far as consistent recipe writing goes, the five cooking magazines I bought the other day and timely pinterest intervention had m.
The last few weeks in October predictably find me in a till- January successive frenzy.
This feature is assigned to those who consider the sweet tooth a vital part of their body, keeping it happy and bringing into congnizanc.
The compulsion to bake on a grander, more multifarious scale is purely the result of our newfound quarantine propagate.
The well-massed friend up there totally encapsulates my mealtime disposition these days, uncomfortably.
When it comes to Indian sweets and confections, I am not as proficiently expertised as I'd like.
If anyone were to ask me which dish would be the perfect introduction to Indian cuisine, the reply would, undoubtedly, be biriyani.
With the innumerable cake stories told here , and throngs, in cue, waiting to be published, whipping up a cake on impulse, is qui.
The keen desire for a pastry such as this got stuck in my head while I was having waffles the previous morning.
For those of you who sense a lack of design and artistry skills, particularly in the baking department, this might be a project to conside.
When your temperament coincides with the seasons, ie, in strict alignment to the months of the year, menu "specials"and baking ventures will.
Here's the thing: building cakes of somewhat designer magnitude should not be limited toward events of an apparent worthiness factor, you k.
If you'd have told me at the inception of these ramblings that one of my singular top goals in recipe updating would be to doll up India.