I was boiling some chicken for Tap, having forgotten that there were some toothpicks under the burner I was using. (Yes, burners. It's an old stove.) I had knocked the box of toothpicks that stays on the stove over reaching for one to see if my baked-a-couple-of-days-ago pound cake was done. I hadn't realized that I'd missed a couple as I cleaned up. The errant ones began to burn, and there has been the lingering scent of a wood fire in the kitchen since.
It's nice.
2 comments:
I wasn't expecting those last two words, but glad that it is a pleasant ending!
That is one tiny thing to be grateful for! (Also that your house didn't burn down.)
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