The other day as I was walking around the lake I had a vision of eating an apple dumpling! And as I was alone in the house when I returned, I made a single apple dumpling complete with butter, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg and flaky pastry - all which melted deliciously in my mouth, each morsel a delight...and as the commercial said, I couldn't believe I ate the whole thing! I had noble intentions of having it last at least two days. But there it was - gone in the first seating!
But as I was scrubbing out the little tin pie plate that had come from Mother many years ago, I remembered how, as she was busily preparing the Sunday desserts, she would take the left-over scraps from her pastry and put them in this small pie plate and bake them for us. When done she would sprinkle sugar over them and let us eat then warm from the oven.... um.
But even better than the remembered taste was the fact that here I was, in my own kitchen, 65 years later, holding the same pie tin that my mother had baked in, washed and put away, just like I was doing today.
History is a lovely thing.
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