I have been meaning to give you this recipe for a few weeks. Not yet having done so, I find myself in the unusual state of hoping winter will stay and chill us just a few days longer, until I can share this recipe with you. As such, my heart saddened a little as I saw the pale pink blossoms while walking with Elinor through the park a few days ago. But I was fortified to see the daffodils with their green blades still merely stretching for the clear, blue sky, not yet smiling up at us with their open-topped top-hat blossoms. A false prediction of snow last night, what would have been the first in 35 years in San Francisco, was also encouraging. So I have made it, pushing the “publish” button while it is still a nippy 40 degrees outside,
Me. Mother of radiant little girl. Wife to first college date. Cream aficionado. Lawyer. Fermentation experimenter. Hungry consumer of the written word. Eater. Oregon native. San Francisco city girl moved to the Midwest countryside. Small-farm detective. Butcher.
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