Then my daughter made me an omelette with fresh eggs we bought from a neighbor that day, and the sorrel we weeded from my grandfather's overgrown garden. For dessert: she made a flaky, buttery pie crust with cherry-rhubarb filling, as fast as I could cut rhubarb from the garden. Food is never as good anywhere, as it is in the mountains!
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I took Loving Frank, by Nancy Horan, along to read, but I confess I read a trashy romance novel instead. That's what summer away from school is for, isn't it? I promise to read Loving Frank next week.
Are you writing about "food books' now? Perhaps you should write a cookbook yourself - or better yet, your daughter should!
ReplyDeleteWhich trashy romance novel?
ReplyDelete