Apple pies are my favorite.
The smell while baking is heavenly. And the smell....that sweet, apple, cinnamon smell took me back in time. To a yellow house on Marsden St, to a small kitchen, with an open window looking out into a backyard of plum trees, lilac bushes, a chestnut tree and a clothes line filled with freshly washed clothes.
I see my Mom, standing in that kitchen with a piece of apple pie, a slice of cheese melted on top, and a cup of ever present black coffee.
A faded memory, so clear while smelling my own apple pie. Sometimes I want to go back. Back to the time when she wasn't sick, battling cancer. To the time she was young, enjoying life, being Mommy. 31 was too young to die.
Funny how the smell of my own apple pie, bought Mommy back for a moment.....bought me back to her....standing in that kitchen at 75 Marsden. St, smiling and eating apple pie.
Your pictures are beautiful as always! I love how smells can take us back in time.
ReplyDeleteI'd love to make an apple pie someday I'm not a baker at all. Do you have a recipe?