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The Lure of the Forbidden

Eggs no toast. Do you have any idea what it is like to eat eggs without toast? Pretty darn lame. The only decadence she allowed herself was cream – real cream, not half and half, or milk, but real true thick and creamy cream – in her coffee. She watched it swirl through the dark coffee. She never stirred, just let it rise to the top, where she could sip the coffee through it. One sip at a blessed time, savoring each one.

Then her egg. Salted, drizzled with some olive oil and nothing else but dark, forbidden fantasies of butter and jam spread out wantonly all over lusty toast. You had to give up an entire food group with every decade. This she knew. And this decade was the decade of bread. Last one had been milk and cheeses and the one before had been dessert. This she knew, but it did little to help her with the issue at hand – a beautiful pastry covered with sugared almonds, curving around itself, ready to share, to please, to bring her some form of culinary satisfaction in a world of eggs without toast – and one that may any day become a world of coffee without cream. God forbid the day!

She gazed at it there on the counter. A few slices had already been devoured, nothing but crumbs left behind. She held a cup of steaming water. Took a sip, remembering what it felt like to have a pastry with coffee.


Serena Cavanaugh was born and raised in the SF Bay Area where she lives with her two kids and their poodle. A graduate of Santa Clara University, she enjoys reading, writing, cooking… and of course eating.


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