Black cherries, soft butter, fine sugar, and top-quality brandy.
The failed toffee peanut brittle would no longer be used; she decided to try something else—a soft cookie, one that wasn't typically eaten.
Brandy-soaked black cherry soft cookies.
No matter whose fault it was, failure was failure. She wasn't willing to argue that she could have made that simple, delicious treat perfectly; there was no point in going back. She needed a new approach.
She was the only one left in the baking room now. The so-called assistant had long disappeared, and all she could hear were the sounds of the oven and the exhaust fan.
She didn't know when the air conditioning had been adjusted, but the temperature was just right, and the baking room no longer felt like an oven.
Sophia was focused, sifting the cake flour. She had already called Tiana, telling her that she might be late returning tonight and asked her to help take care of Laura.
