The market on Thursdays was always louder than the rest of the week — vendors shouting, children weaving between crates, the air smelling of cilantro and frying dough. At the center of the bustle was a small wooden cart painted a tired banana yellow and topped with a hand-lettered sign: BANANAHOTTIES. No one quite knew who started it; everyone knew who ran it now.
Melt dark chocolate with a teaspoon of coconut oil. bananahotties
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