I woke up with a hankering for toast and jam, and lucky me, I had just made a lovely semolina boule. But travesty struck, as it does so often in innocent households: I found that I was sans les confitures.
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<br />I could have been devastated, because you know, a jamless house can render a poor soul to that lot. But I circumvented such despair in view of an awaiting pound of perfectly ripe figs.

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