![]() They were my gold metal, my Agatha award, my Ig Nobel Prize*. It didn't take long to finish off the batch, and we slowly melted back to our respective tasks but those few minutes together were as precious as any ever spent. We chatted a bit while we ate, my husband, my daughter and her boyfriend, and I. Recently I bopped into the kitchen with the recipe for Skillet Flatbreads secure in my head, and within 30 minutes we were gathered around a tray of warm breads, cheeses, garden-fresh tomatoes and other goodies.Įach person lavished on their favorite toppings. Puttering about gathering ingredients calms me, yet energizes me at the same time. I know for me, being able to walk into the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon, when the family is hanging around watching the game, or working on projects, and whipping up something warm and satisfying gives me absolute joy. You feel the pride in your hard work, the joy of accomplishment, the warmth of knowing your work makes others happy. with the Olympics just behind us, it's the same as winning that medal. For us, hearing "OH, my goodness, that's delicious!" is the equivalent of a writer hearing "Here's your Pulitzer Prize." Or maybe. Handing your loved ones a fresh, warm, home-baked treat is a baker's equivalent of a novelist submitting a manuscript for publication. ![]() You, my friend, like to make people smile.
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