I heard it could be done, but never had proof until this week.

In fact, I never really tried until my little grandson broke his leg.

But when a grandson with a smile that turns stone into molten lava gets hurt, what else can a far-away grandmother (known in his world as Grammy Pammy) do?

So yes, I sneak down to the dark corner of my basement, where I hide the thick ancient texts on “cooking magic” and “baking love,” the texts that my family know nothing about. Continue reading →