Pie Dough Poetry
A warm day hinting of Summer…in the kitchen with others. Low level laughter, smiles, hushed bakers listening intently. We’re here to learn. Flour, butter, water. The simplest of things, yet so many mysteries to unravel. In the freezer…from ice cold to piping hot; from brick and mortar we build this wonderful thing of baked goodness. Fresh from the oven. This is home. Hands moving softly, back and forth, spinning. Like a dance of tradition. I’m reaching for apron strings…thinking of grandmother.
Photos by Kung Foodie,
at the Eggbeater Baking Class
