I stabbed my big toe tonight on the steel blade for the Cuisinart. It’s really not so complicated as it sounds, or else I would explain. The pesto smells luscious, and that’s all that matters.
I’m now taking contributions to buy a roasting pan, dear readers. My birthday is barely over a month away, and I’ll be ringing in the big two-six. 25 was a solid number: a quarter, a silver anniversary,
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