Every December, few things fill me with more unnecessary anxiety and obstinate pride than making a bûche de Noël. I am, as a rule, a rather fickle and pernickety consumer of sweets: I’m a great admirer of good coffee éclairs and a multitude of fruit pies, but a sugar content does not, inherently, get my heart aflutter. I need to be cajoled, and I only like what I like.
I’m not a huge fan of the bûche we get suckered into buying during the holidays. Come to think of it, it’s damn near impossible to find decent French pastry where I am.
Wonderful read. Thank you for sharing, truly felt like I was (for a brief moment) invited to one of your dinner parties.
Your writing is as delightful as your mother's mind...and you've distilled the pleasure of cooking: control, mastery, and recognition from those you love to feed.
Loved every minute this.
I’m not a huge fan of the bûche we get suckered into buying during the holidays. Come to think of it, it’s damn near impossible to find decent French pastry where I am.
Wonderful read. Thank you for sharing, truly felt like I was (for a brief moment) invited to one of your dinner parties.
Your writing is as delightful as your mother's mind...and you've distilled the pleasure of cooking: control, mastery, and recognition from those you love to feed.