Deathly Scalloped Potato Pizza
It’s barely spring and the apartment isn’t even warm yet, but these days every root vegetables in my kitchen seems to be in a hurry to grow up. There’s a pot that my cleaning lady set by the window with green stalks surging so high that I almost thought she was bribing me back (aww, you shouldn’t have…). No, the bottom lies the shallots I bought a few weeks back. And there’s those deceiving heads of garlic cloves each hiding inside its white jacket, only to be exposed when smashed open that they were secretly stretching out mini antennas to listen in on my conversations with my doughs (puff now, my little one… hush hush). Then there’re these baby potatoes. Oh my potato-babies… how it hurts me that they are in such hurry to grow up and leave my loving nest.
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