Beautiful, aren’t they? These are settled together on a saucer — they’re small, maybe three or four bites. Light, crisp, ephemeral little tastes of pleasure. They won’t last. Partially because I’m certain they’ll be eaten before morning, but also because their perfection begins to fade as soon as they are finished. They’ll be alright tomorrow afternoon, but they are everything they can be now. They are the perfect symbol of Conscious Eating. They are full of rich flavor, and come from long and careful preparation. Sit down, pour a bit of hot tea. Winter is still at the door, soon to retreat. These are still hot. Take a bite, let the flakes fall on your plate, and on your shirt, and really taste the long, cool fermentation of the dough, the warm stretch of the gluten, the rich nuttiness of the butter lightly browned. You could eat a dozen, but how much more pleasure to sit with a friend and a hot cuppa, and truly enjoy the experience of just one. Maybe two. Laugh and let the flakes fall where they may.