Chicken in Creamy Mustard Marsala Sauce

Ahhh to be home. It smells like only home can. Sweet and buttery, like Eau de Paula Deen, I imagine. It feels familiar, comfortable, and nostalgic. The floorboards sigh and squeal at just the same coordinates they did as I used to tip-toe in at 1am. My adolescent face is gracing just about every wallspace….

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