The Golden Visit
The roast is in the oven. You can smell the fat hitting the hot iron, that heavy, greasy scent of rendered pork and rosemary that has become the defining aroma of your life in this house. You stand in the center of the kitchen, your hands resting on the edge of the marble counter, and you watch the steam rise from the pot of gravy you have spent the last three hours reducing. It is a delicate...
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