No one was there to teach me how to make pillowy pieces of Asian bread. Arguably the best dessert bread of human existence. This is the bread of car trips from ABQ to Los Alamos. This is the bread of before dinner appetizers and after dinner palate cleaners. This is the bread of versatility and wonderful Asian bakeries. Plain (above) or stuffed with an almond/date mixture and chocolate chunks (below).
But no one was there to teach me how to make them.
I scoured online recipes and food bloggers and baking pros to find this. Recently dubbed my go-to recipe. Good because it makes about four so portion control. Bad because it makes about four so not for sharing. They are the best right out of the oven, of course. So just go ahead and eat them all immediately. I give you permission.
But no one was there to teach me how to make them.
I scoured online recipes and food bloggers and baking pros to find this. Recently dubbed my go-to recipe. Good because it makes about four so portion control. Bad because it makes about four so not for sharing. They are the best right out of the oven, of course. So just go ahead and eat them all immediately. I give you permission.
In the end, I guess I didn't need anyone to teach me how to make them.
But what about everything else?
No one taught me forgiveness. No one taught me how to let go of grudges. No one taught me what to do when phantoms bore so deep into your mind that you find yourself reliving feelings you thought you had forgotten. And suddenly you are floating in and out of I-don't-know-what-this-is. I was wrong to think that I could bury these confessions away but I keep trying to anyways. I never learned another way.
No one told me such small words could hurt. So I carry them with me always.
No one taught me faith. What lesson that a little girl should learn that people will let you down? Because no one taught me trust. No one showed me how.
Someone tried to show me God, but no one gave me reason.
No one taught me satisfaction. No one warned me of last words and final chances. So I learned regret and resentment instead. Because no one told me I'd still be thinking about you.
No one taught me forgiveness. No one taught me how to let go of grudges. No one taught me what to do when phantoms bore so deep into your mind that you find yourself reliving feelings you thought you had forgotten. And suddenly you are floating in and out of I-don't-know-what-this-is. I was wrong to think that I could bury these confessions away but I keep trying to anyways. I never learned another way.
No one told me such small words could hurt. So I carry them with me always.
No one taught me faith. What lesson that a little girl should learn that people will let you down? Because no one taught me trust. No one showed me how.
Someone tried to show me God, but no one gave me reason.
No one taught me satisfaction. No one warned me of last words and final chances. So I learned regret and resentment instead. Because no one told me I'd still be thinking about you.
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