The recipe my grandmother never wrote down

“A little flour, until it feels right.” Trying to rebuild a flavour from memory.

My grandmother cooked without measurements. When I asked how much sugar, she answered looking at the dough, not at me.

The texture only hands know

I’ve got this recipe wrong six times. On the seventh, the smell of the kitchen took me back to a Sunday afternoon twenty years ago.

“Some recipes don’t fit on paper. They fit in the hands of those who learned by watching.”

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