Maybe what the world needs is a single currency. Like jars of this sweet, rich bacon jam. It makes everything better.
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In Paris, everything looks like dessert. Or so sees Susan Hochbaum, who finds her muse in sweet sculptures of butter, cream, and sugar.
David divulges his mental music queue, a groovin’ jukebox that loops over and over and over again.
This cigar-shaped sweet, swaddled in pastry and filled with eggy custard, was first made in…convents?
Why exactly does a flaccid, four-pound, gray-brown piece of beef shaped roughly like the state of Tennessee inspire Proustian prose and evoke deep pleasure?
A writer recalls the challenges her father faced smuggling chicken fat and chopped liver—Jewish contraband—back home across the border.