This week, I baked cookies because someone at work asked me to. I’m pretty easy. All you have to do is flatter me by telling me my cookies are the best you’ve ever had and I’ll bake for you too. I also baked because one of my young co-workers lost his dad to a sudden heart attack a few weeks ago and the pain is still so raw…
If you don’t make your own pesto, you should be slapped. * There I said it. That’s probably the most controversial thing you’ll see on this blog, and I mean it. Why? Because you’re passing up your moment of culinary immortality. Years from now, people will forget how you looked, what you said and what you wore, but they’ll never forget the creamy, fresh taste of your pasta…