It's the color of blood and the passion is boiled in it. It tastes very subtle at first, and then it explodes. Does it remind you of anything?
Just put together a few beautiful things that grew out of the ground and you have what I call a "supernatural" moment.
I love it when the name of a dish says it all. I really enjoy this recipe for a long time and honestly. And then it turns out to be a perfect wilderness.
A warm pancake in the palm of your hand, the soft scent of cinnamon, sugar drunk with butter. An ordinary weekday evening. I've never felt better.