“Titles stink and they’re too hard to figure out.” I was pouting from the moment I woke up yesterday morning. Gus said, “No. They’re an opportunity to tell your reader what you care about.” Oh. He’s so annoying and rational sometimes. My first cookbook goes to the printer next week (!!) and at the eleventh hour I’ve decided to fuss about the title. I’ve made extra work for my dear editors (I’m sure they’re cursing me), but I think it’s worth it. It may or may not change, but there have been a flurry of emails back and forth and now I can’t stop thinking/agonizing about it.
Read moreOrange Pistachio Buns
I want to tell you about my mom-in-law Deborah’s orange buns. They’re deluxe. Pillowy soft, swirly, orange-scented dream rolls. Deborah doesn’t glaze them and I think that’s right on because they’re really perfect just how they are. Simple, orange-zested magic. They live in that land somewhere between breakfast and dessert and they rule the kingdom. Just decadent enough to feel like a treat but not so out of control that the indulgence becomes uncomfortable.
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