Sugar. You and I have a long history. I was delivered in the hallway to the delivery room, screaming for dessert. It wasn't yet six in the morning. My mom offered her breast and I suckled and tasted sweet. It could have been the candy drawer she keeps to this day. I didn't 'lick it off the ground,' as my husband often says. Sugar is my fuel and my nemesis. Surrounded by a bunch of hippies, it doesn't get me far. But oozing Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies on a Friday night, pulled from the oven just as my dear overworked roommate in New York walked in the door, made me instant friends. I believe it also secured a few boyfriends, perhaps a husband ! Those boys in New York aren't used to a chick who can hold her own on a trading floor AND bake a pie, crust included, from scratch. "Would you like that a la mode with this Bourbon Raisin Ice Cream I just threw together?