Somewhere over Saskatchewan, a flight attendant offered me cookies. After debating for 2.3 seconds over health vs. happiness, I took the cookies. They were still warm, soft and pliable with the tiniest hint of crunch on the outside. Do they bake them on board? Do they bring them on almost baked and then heat them up just enough before serving them? Either way, my cookies gave me a lovely little moment on a long, long flight.
Now that I’m back in the States, I think I need to give myself a temporary moratorium on blogging about food. One week.