![]() ![]() Silver Palate wouldn’t have been in her cookbook collection, though. ![]() I spent countless hours cooking by her side, or simply sitting in one of those avocado-green stools along the kitchen counter, watching her breeze around her domain making dinner while I finished homework. My mom was an outstanding cook, I absolutely credit her with my early love of cooking and comfort in the kitchen. Not my kitchen, mind you, but our next-door neighbor’s. A friend brought Chunky Apple Walnut Cake as her contribution to the meal, and when she told me what book the recipe was from, my mind immediately drifted back to my teenage self standing in a kitchen in Edmonds, where I grew up. But it took a recent potluck to make me take down my copy of The Silver Palate Cookbook and thumb through it for the first time in ages. I glance quickly past its spine now and then when scanning for a different title on my current office shelves. The book has been on who-knows-how-many different bookshelves of mine over the course of many years. ![]()
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