Kinkier by the minute

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I made Tiramisu this evening. It was one of those spur of the moment thing. I saw a pack of Mascarpone, bought it and finally got down to making something out of it. A great sense of satisfaction was derived indeed, but I'll only get to taste it, on the morrow honey. I should really search for a Very legit Italian man and marry him. Yum! Better yet, an Italian chef would be heavenly! An italian chef who prefers dousing on talcum to spraying cologne. Grrr!


Kinkier by the minute.

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