Pumpkin Pie

This subject was suggested by WordPress.  It is a fine topic.  So I have chosen to write a few words on this delicious subject.  I hope this post will be therapeutic.

Cake or pie?  Well, it depends!

Given that I have just finished breakfast, at the moment, I am not hungry.  However, if I were, I would choose pie.

We are in North-America and, during the fall, pies are a favourite.  My preference is for apple pie. But when pumpkins are on the stands, I eat pumpkin pie.  But, this Christmas day, I’m dreaming, I hope to eat a big piece of the Christmas log: a cake.  However, having been the wife of a gentleman whose family lived in Yorkshire, I could easily forego a piece of the Christmas log and eat plum pudding instead.  I love it.

So, my choice of pie or cake depends, to a large extent, on the season and on the Feast day of that season.  Traditions are so important.

At this time of year, I eat pie.

However, when my birthday comes around, I eat cake, preferably chocolate or moka cake, gooey cake.  I like cake that does not cause a major challenge to forks.  I like soft cake.

When we were children, my siblings and I ate cake on January 6:  Epiphany.  Would you believe that our mother treated us to two Christmases?  January 6 was a holiday.  We always returned to school after, never before, January 6 and, on that day, one of the four children would be king or queen.

Mother would insert a bean in the cake and the person who was served the piece that contained the bean was crowned.  It was a homemade crown, but never was a crown worn with such pride as Epiphany’s crown.  As well, on the morning of January 6, there were gifts under the tree.  It was truly a second Christmas.

As you have guessed by now, my mother enjoyed cooking and she also enjoyed seeing our happy faces.  Looking at us was always a bit of an endeavour as we were totally different from one another.  There was no resemblance.  No, we were not adopted.

And now comes lemon pie:  lemon meringue pie.  That was the joy-of-summer pie.  I loved it.  We loved it.  Mother also made other summer pies:  blueberry, cherry and other berries.  Occasionally, she sent us out to pick the berries.

I still eat cake and pie, but only on special days.  I am one of these persons who decided, early in life, that he or she would eat in moderation.  However, for a few years, there was afternoon coffee and the occasional pastry.  I am a perfect candidate for Café society and, during a few years, I joined friends in a café every afternoon.  I then lived in downton Toronto.  Those were happy years.

It has also occurred to me that in an earlier century, I would have my own salon and serve pie and cake to my salonniers and salonnìères. So:  Bon appétit!

*   *   *

October 10, 2011