Three Bags of Cashews and a Dishonest Sister In Law at the Wedding

a small glass bowl.

From the lower shelf, I took a single bag of white chocolate chips, the plastic crinkling in the quiet room.

I did not need the commercial mixer tonight; the small hand whisk would do just fine.

I set the blue ceramic mixing bowl on the counter, the same bowl that had seen forty years of candy making.

I began to melt the white chocolate continue reading …