P is for Pie
Or pies. One big one and a lot of little ones.
Yesterday we went apple picking and pumpkin selecting at Jaswell's Farm with a friend of ours and his daughter, who is a year younger than Julia. The two girls get along really well, and they leave Alex alone, and we adults don't have to get involved in any altercations, so everyone's happy.
You never know when inspiration will strike.
Actually, it doesn’t always strike. Sometimes it just whispers. Or waves to you from somewhere off to your right and you just catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye, so you turn, and there it is.
For the record, I was asked to bring an Italian rice pie or a cheesecake to Easter brunch at my cousin's house.
AN Italian rice pie or A cheesecake.
And this is what I baked today:
Pardon the mess. I like to bake. I don't so much like to clean.
(from my old blog...)
My mother got this recipe from a friend of hers, and for years it's been my "birthday cake" of choice. Served it chilled, with some fresh whipped cream (or not) it's perfect on a hot July day.