Last year my aunt gifted me a recipe card, penned by my late grandmother. The slightly stained index card was beginning to show its age: once white, now yellowing, its blue ink now bleeding through to the other side. The exceptional penmanship on this card was a rarity; my Grandma was known for having practically illegible handwriting–a consequence of the Catholic nuns trying to “fix” her left-handedness by forcing her to write with her right hand. While I was well-schooled in deciphering her hieroglyphics, it was always a surprise to see something legible come from her hand. The recipe is for Merk’s Coffee Cake.
Breakfast is my favorite meal. I love it so much, I make it for dinner–often. French toast, veggie-potato hash, waffles, fried egg sandwiches and pancakes of all sorts make the cut for our evening meal. Paired up with some fruit and sausage or bacon for my guys–and some sausage or bacon-like substitute for me–it is my favorite kind of meal.
As I was strolling through the produce section the other day I saw that cherries are in season; I grabbed the biggest bag I could find. The first thing I thought of making with them is a recipe that has been on my “culinary bucket list” for years–clafoutis. A clafoutis (clah-foo-TEE) is a French dessert that bakes fruit into a custard batter. Don’t be intimidated, it sounds fancier than it really is. The ingredients and technique are as simple as can be: whirl up a pancake-like batter in the blender, pour over fruit and bake until slightly crispy on the outside and warm and custardy in the center. While I’m sure it makes a lovely dessert, it sounds more like breakfast to me–it was finally time to cross this dish off my list!
Like many holidays, Easter is celebrated with a feast: a feast full of spring vegetables; a hearty meat as the star of the meal; and a nice, light dessert to finish. While I miss my Grandmother’s ham and raisin sauce as well as the rack of lamb I used to make, I have found a new main course that not only pleases the vegetarian in me, but also is a reminder of family.
My Great Uncle Ray was the only family member we had in Florida when we moved here in 1985. I viewed him as a surrogate Grandfather after my own Grandfather, his brother, passed away. He attended all family gatherings and he loved to eat. I never remember a time hearing him say that there was anything he didn’t like. He always filled his plate with everything offered and always came back for seconds. He finished off every meal with dessert and black coffee. He derived such pleasure from family and food and life. He loved to cook for his friends and family and was always experimenting with new recipes. Looking back, I think that he was the first foodie I ever met. I’m not sure if he was even familiar with that term, but he definitely embodied the definition: he was a great lover of all things food.
…he just might ask you to marry him. At least that’s how it happened with us. Ok, now a marriage proposal may not come as a result of just any pancakes, but these were oatmeal pancakes. Oatmeal honey pancakes. Alright, so maybe that’s not entirely the reason that I got a ring, but my husband, Ed says he’s pretty sure these flapjacks definitely cinched the deal.