Last weekend, during a birthday celebration of a bunch of kindred Sagittarians -- those of us, allege the astrology experts, who are optimistic and freedom-loving, jovial and good-humored, honest and straightforward and intellectual and philosophical -- the kitchen wizard who commands the line insisted on marking the occasion (a combined 120 years among the three of us) with truffles -- specifically, salted, chocolate-shelled truffles exposing sublime centers of peanut butter mousse. And those, people, are all I want for Christmas.
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