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madeleine cookies and coffee

I have baked 12 dozen madeleine cookies in the past three weeks. Twelve dozen. Why the feverish baking spree, you ask? I blame my boss.

It all started a couple months ago when he made a literary allusion that sailed over my head. “You know, like Proust’s madeleines,” he quipped during a meeting. Proust, Proust… I scrunched my eyebrows together, scrambling for a mental foothold. The French guy, right?

Clearly I had some homework to do. Fortunately it involved butter and sugar.

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Hi friends. Long time, no posting. Sorry about that. I have a recipe in the works but it’s not quite ready for prime time—soon, I hope. In the meantime, allow me to direct you to the latest and greatest feature of this blog: a recipe index!

Denali and Isabelle

My dog, Denali, has a bone to pick with you. She heard an ugly rumor that some of you readers think she wants to, ahem, eat the chickens.

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bowl of green beans

“Somewhere between the bottom of the climb and the summit is the answer to the mystery why we climb.” – Greg Child

Do you think plants ever have existential questions? You know: Why am I here? What am I good at? From my vantage point, it sure doesn’t look like it.

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