After my divorce and the sudden loss of my job, I escaped to a remote cabin in Vermont, hoping to vanish long enough for the pieces of my life to stop hurting. I expected silence and solitude. Instead, I was greeted almost immediately by Evelyn, my elderly neighbor, who arrived with a casserole and a smile warm enough to melt snow. Her husband, George, stood behind her, quiet and steady. Gratitude made me accept her cooking; politeness made me pretend it was delicious. That lie trapped me in a months-long parade of culinary catastrophes.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
