In the midst of making a vanilla cream custard (a la Craig Claiborne), she thinks:
“What do our obsessions mean anyway?”
Are they a sign that we are irreparably flawed as people? Perhaps. But that’s a given. She nods. There is a deeper cause for these things, surely. What lives within our own hearts is unknown to our minds. And why, this particular strong feeling? Why not something else? Obsessions must be part of our persona, who we are.
But not all.
