i’m never finished with my work. i still adjust the bake time by 11 seconds, add 5 more grams of vanilla bean, feel the urge to use saffron, trace back the way every baking sheet, pot, marble, linen, cotton were made, why each stitch is interesting, why (how?) the mechanism works… and of course there’s always that spatula that changed my life, and the peony that’s insane, that tape is gorgeous, that wood is not like any other, i don’t understand why they glazed that other wood, that grain size is spectacular, that bubble wrap is so us, this raw cacao is changing my life (that i have said for the last 15 years), how do i get that crisp, how do i make it light, it should feel fluffy, it should have tang, it should have perspective ... that’s what actually happens in the kitchen.

because it’s never been about having more. it’s about the depth.

I fall the whole way in. One piece can hold me for weeks, and I let it, because that's where the good part lives.

What you see is what I'm offering. If it's not there, it's not here.

until next time,
erica b at tlb