Ok, I'm kidding. It's about Jesus. Really it is. I love Him. If I focus more on Jesus instead of the food, I might lose a few pounds.
In the meantime, indulge me as I drool over these fine breads that my mama once sent me while I was on my mission in the O.C.. My companion deduced my financial status on account of these muffins. They made me appear like a Londoner, always eating first rate baked goods while enjoying a spot of tea. As far as that was from the truth, it tickled me pink. When Christmas rolled around after I came home, I sent her a tin of muffins. I think of her every year now. Hamilton and me, eating english muffins in our bedroom with our fireplace in a ridiculous expensive mansion, overlooking Canyon Lake.
Clickety click here for some darn good Christmas bread.