I put on the mitts and slowly peaked through the oven door. The sweet scent of vanilla with a faint sizzle sneaked out and passed by. With much care, as if lifting up a newborn, I took out my creation and gently placed on the kitchen counter. The yellow buttery crust sprinkled with golden raisins looked inviting. But patience is a virtue, especially when you are dealing with steamy edibles. As I stood there, gazing at the simplicity of that very ordinary bread pudding, a strange comfort filled me. Piecing out a morsel that is still warm and moist and rich and topped with a big smile on my face, I tasted bliss.

Blogging the Senses



2 thoughts on “Bliss

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