In which I bake barm cakes with the help of my giant forearm flexor muscles.
In which a Midwestern/Southern Lutheran girl enthusiastically embraces Jewish bread and refuses to c
In which I learn that clafoutis and flaugnarde are desserts, not rare species of fungi.
In which I valiantly and unflinchingly confront my spongy vanilla demons.
In which I bake tomato and mozzarella bread and chase an old dog through the neighborhood.
In which I make spelt bread and don't get mobbed by angry cousins.
In which I bake a beautiful lemon drizzle cake for Valentine's Day and refuse to eat it.
In which I use too much water but still kick ass at bread-making.
In which I bake another substandard marble cake and refrain from stabbing it repeatedly.
In which I share random baking blog thoughts while my dog barks at me.
