Proust dipped a madeléine into his tea and  wrote about the all-powerful joy of remembering the past.

I paged  my stained and wrinkled family cookbook and  “the memory revealed itself”.  I discovered my own exquisite pleasure, my own magic, “the remembrance of things past”.

My Dad  in the kitchen baking.  Eggs whisked.  Flour folded.  A fragrant tray of cake baking.  The memory, the magic, a tender sponge cake spread with homemade jam, rolled in gritty sugar.  Then a picnic and tea with jelly roll slices.

I put on of my favorite operas, La Bohemme.  Filled the kitchen with music and made my childhood memory.  A jelly roll.  I filled it in the old-fashion manner – with home made jam.  Look through pantry, my dear friends.  If you have eggs, flour and sugar your half way there.  Fill it with any kind of jam, jelly, lemon curd or even just whipped cream.

Bake an old-fashioned jelly roll.  It is good for the soul, and delicious with tea.




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