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I totally found myself thinking about the old 1940’s-70’s cookbooks of my mother’s and grandmothers. I used to flip through them giggling at the jello molds and drooling over the colors and textures of food my dad would never let my mother cook. One batch of vichyssoise, before I was even born, and the “let’s try new things” portion of my mother’s cooking, or at least of my father’s eating, was all but done. I HAVE been trying new things. New flavors, and combinations…. Continue reading