A homemaker's kitchen journal
Always, at the last quarter of the y ear, I envision myself Tres Grand Baker (sounds so good in French), you know , where I make/shar.
The job of baking something palatable, and have it fulfill the dual destiny of being remarkably delicious, and show visually as a f.
There's some excitement when I am beginning to share with you hidden treasures and untold secrets of lifelong loves.
I've read that you can survive 3 minutes without oxygen, 3 days without water and 3 weeks without food.
If your Fourth of July is as happy as this cake is, then I'd say you're having a very good holiday.
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.
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.
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.
Here's the thing: building cakes of somewhat designer magnitude should not be limited toward events of an apparent worthiness factor, you k.
The mess and multitudinal stages involved in cookie manufacturing bring a unifying sense of order and stability to a season so busy, specifi.
I ndulge me in my shameless attempt to show off the photogenic furbundle I live with❤️ Like myself he loves Christmas with abandon.