A Recipe for Twenty Two

Twenty three sounds a bit more mature than twenty two. 

Still young. 

Stil figuring things out. 

If a recipe existed for twenty two it would include the egg shells cracked into the bowl by accident. It would include forgetting the main ingredient at the store and having to make do with what's in your kitchen, burning the edges in the process. But something wonderful happened in between the disappointment and questionable appearance of the dish. A hunger rose within in the cracking, stirring, tasting and waiting. A hunger that makes the dish utterly delicious, better than expected with a unique, distinct flavor but sweet aftertaste. Twenty two was vanilla rhubarb and lemon zest cake. Tart and questionable at first, not flourless chocolate by any means. In the middle of the menu and often overlooked, alone on the platter but each bit savored and soaking into young developing taste buds. Burnt on the edges, yet yellow lemon zest sprinkling the top layer. Joy inside.