|Goat’s Milk Chocolate Pot de Creme|
Somewhere around the time that I turned 5, my mother gave me a little Betty Crocker oven. In retrospect, it seems a strange gift for I can’t recall ever wanting to help in the kitchen. In fact, my mother would rarely let me do more than set the table. Most likely a good call since I was predestined for a lifetime of clumsiness, the first signs apparent by my knack for slopping, spilling, or dropping anything that I was asked to carry to the table.