Plating

I can’t wait for the day my heart isn’t pounding out of my chest as I add the final touches to my plate: perching that dehydrated lemon slice, draping the fennel frond just so without knocking my poached salmon fillet off its damn socle. For now, I’ll take refuge in the fact that my heart cares so much in the first place–else why would it try to pump me silly with adrenaline when all this is going down?

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