Some of my fondest memories of family and friends are of baking sweets and meals. Gran Wheelhouse made this amazing pie when I was in my early teens. Today, I made that recipe for dinner. Every bite was laced with memories. I'm certain that my version of her pie doesn't even come close to the heavenly baked goods Gran used to make. The experience, however, was cathartic and well-worth the labor.
This weekend has been, to some extent, about the labor of love involved in baking. One of my oldest friends called late last night with a challenge--to assist in the creation of a cookie recipe based upon the contents of her kitchen. We made up a recipe for chocolate-rum cookies on the spot.
I made a nice recipe of slow-cooked items for Romeyn and a newer (but still wonderful!) friend in town yesterday. I am very grateful that this friend was willing to put up with our need to have a cat-break mid-dinner (we are still administering two doses per day of kitty medicine for Pumpkin-kitty).
Michelle (the dear soul who just passed away) taught me the recipe for apple pie that I make for family and friends. I have all of the ingredients for her fabulous pie recipe. I'm planning to make it for the early Residence-Hall Thanksgiving next weekend for my older stepson, our family, and a group of the students with whom he works. Memories and pie, pie and memories.
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