Someone once asked a wise person "Where should I start?" And the wise one answered "At the beginning." My baking adventures began years ago in my mama's kitchen baking cookies on rainy days. The scents of warm butter and vanilla wrapped our home in goodness. When the rains lifted my brother and I would run outside to play - cookie in hand - into a sunshine air perfumed by our Florida orange blossoms. Baking naturally followed me through life, a sweet comfort on a journey that took me far from home. Christmases mulled with cinnamon and nutmeg. Birthdays puffed with creams and chocolates. And most recently this itty-bitty bite of decadence that your mind tells you should be a lollipop but your recipe says is cake:
