No one told me that recipes evolve. That the pie you once made for friends at 2 a.m. during college will become the one you teach your daughter to make years later. And it will taste better then — not because the ingredients changed, but because the memories did.
No one told me the secret ingredient is always love. Not the sappy kind, but the real kind — the kind that grows in kitchens, stains aprons, and lingers long after the last bite is gone.
If you’d like, I can also turn this into a specific recipe-based article — like something more traditional with instructions — just say the word!
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