The Beginning.

As someone with a day-job in publishing (even if it is just textbooks and not anything with a true plot line), I feel like no story can start without a beginning…

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There once was a girl named Michelle who lived in a small town in Massachusetts. She grew up in this small town and, as many young girls do, tried many different hobbies and interests, trying to figure out what she liked. She drew, wrote stories, designed dresses, played soccer, played basketball, ran around with friends, danced, participated in theater and tried stage crew. She refused to learn how to sail because she was convinced she would smell fishy; she later regretted this refusal. Growing up in a family of many chefs (both of the at-home and professional variety), Michelle had a basic understanding of cooking but often made nothing more than the quick snack or dinner and the occasional baked good (the kind with a recipe on the side of the box).

It was not until she met a wise, wonderful woman (I guess girl would be the proper term, since they were both in high school when they met, but hopefully she gets the reference) that she realized how wonderful it was to make something from scratch. This lovely person introduced Michelle to a whole new world of exciting possibilities. And so, for the last year of high school, they spent many an afternoon or weekend making delicious things, when they weren’t doing homework or after school activities, or watching their favorite show, Gilmore Girls.

Throughout college these two remained fast friends, despite hundreds of miles between them and vacation schedules that never quite lined up. Every trip home when the two of them were there together, there would be an afternoon or evening of Gilmore Girls and baked goods.

While Michelle missed her friend when she was away, college was a wonderful time where she met many fantastic people and made new friends, several of whom enjoyed cooking and baking, and, even, Gilmore Girls. Michelle tried out more cakes and cookies, she tried souffles and tarts, she learned the wonders of puff pastry, and got very excited about time spent in her kitchen. It was during college when a lovely boy gave her the best gift anyone could give, a KitchenAid stand mixer. Michelle named her Molly and the two of them concocted even more delicious things.

After college, Michelle returned to Massachusetts and found a job at a small textbook publisher. While she likes her job, she wishes she could spend more time in her kitchen. Then, one day, she decided she should start a blog.

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This is where the story begins (and I promise, the third person narrative ends here).

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