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Aracena (Andalusia, Spain)

Even though I only went to Spain with a half-empty carry-on, I came back with my luggage, and head, stuffed full. Not because of the in-flight oxygen, but from attending a food photography workshop with ace food photographer Tim Clinch. Iโ€™d met Tim a few years ago and he had been kind enough to try to give me some advice via Skype in my continuingโ€ฆ

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Sprinting Toward the Finishโ€ฆ

Everything is a mess, including my computer. I started writing this story, and lost it. (The story, I mean. I donโ€™t mean that โ€œI lost itโ€ โ€“ although I fear thatโ€™s coming.) I have piles of paperwork stacked up all around my apartment, including on every chairs and the couch. Next to my kitchen counter is a stack of unfinished recipes Iโ€™m testing, with notesโ€ฆ

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The Coopers of Cognac

Earlier this week, I woke up in a small town, smelling of something. It wasnโ€™t anything bad. In fact, it was pretty good: sweet, caramel-like, and roasted, with a vague, but lingering aftermath of alcohol following it. It wasnโ€™t something I was used to, but Iโ€™d tasted so many Cognacs this week in the town of Cognac, that it was literally wafting out my poresโ€ฆ.

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