You know, you can complain wherever you go. That everything is not perfect for you. That there’s violence, or meanness. But then you’re at Carmita’s. And a little penny falls out while you’re searching for change. A penny that your son carved ten years ago, carved out in metal shop so that only the face of Lincoln remains. And you laugh and tell Carmita that story, and that that penny has been in your wallet for ten years. And she pauses, then takes the penny, moves to the side, under the counter, and comes up with your little precious penny in a tiny, perfect, sealed bag. So that it will always be protected, and never confused with your other change. She did that.
Recipe of the Day – Vegan Petit Fours Continue reading “Raw Petit Fours”