From the kitchen of One Perfect Bite...It's time for me to fess up. I've fallen victim to an incurable summer disease. Despite smaller quarters and the surrender of equipment, farm stands continue to lure me much as the Sirens attempted to lure the Argonauts to their destruction. As a child, my mother would liken my odd behaviors to "stages" - temporary fixations that would pass in time. Most of them did. However, this urge to put food by has dogged my adult years, and it shows no sign of...
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