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248 pages, Paperback
First published January 26, 2016
My mom is no snickerdoodle. She is more a cross between a fine petit four and a chunky chocolate rugulach, the imperfectly formed, rolled-up miniature pastries swirled with fruit, cheese, or chocolate and embedded with nuts. And butter. And sugar. Rugulach are oddly shaped, dense, and intense, just like the females in my family. Growing up in Hillsborough, we were a plate of rugulach in a window display of snickerdoodles.