
What last night came out of the Trader Joe's package from the freezer as a nondescript frozen puck, this morning was a pillow of dough, ready for the oven.
And then the timer goes off. You look. It is perfectly brown.
You plate. You wait.
And when you can't wait another minute, you bite in. Your glasses steam up and flaky crumbs fall like confetti and decorate the plate. The chocolate is revealed.
Your next bite is perfect: a little pastry, a little chocolate. So is the next.

But there are more where they came from for another day. And life is good.
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing. I, too, am in love with these things.
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