You might be wondering why no odyssey about how my Grandmother inspired the exact flavour profile of a dish.
I regret to inform you: there is no story.
No harrowing tale of how I wrestled a badger for the freshest thyme. No dramatic realization about the purpose of celery seed while looking out at a windswept prairie.
Here's the short version: I made food. It was delicious. Now you make it.
