sometimes i still see her... my mother, the dreamer.

Queenie reaches for the old mixing bowl she'd rescued ages ago from her bubbe's house – the pretty one with the flowers painted along the sides that her mother used to tell stories about. While Queenie can't remember much about either woman anymore, she remembers this bowl. As she sets it down on the counter, she feels them both with her.

It's a time-honored tradition in their family: baking without the aid of magic. There's no recipes –– they were never written down. Sometimes, Queenie thinks she ought to commit at least a few of their recipes to paper, yet she never follows through on it... Very few things in life are so certain, but when you mix sugar, butter, and flour, something more than magical happens.

Tina doesn't always understand. Without magic is messier, she'll say when she comes home to the flour-dusted counters. And Tina's right. It is messier, it takes longer, and the wooden mixing spoon makes her hands rough for days after the fact.

But oh, the reward is so worth the time.