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Smells like home:
Potatoes boiling in milk with black pepper, nutmeg, and bay from my mother's tree; the burnt-dust smell you get off Kenwood mixer motors; yeast beginning to do its thing in the bread; and Dundee cake finishing up in the oven.
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I also got to experience the glorious continuity of blanching almonds (almonds, bowl, hot water, wait; pick, squeeze, slip), which ties me to my mother and my grandmother and so on back.
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