Don’t want to miss no more
Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I’ve been enjoying watching summer sink into autumn, and autumn turn and nod toward winter. And now I am doing all of those lovely things that mark the shift in seasons. Over the weekend I hung white lights on the fence and pulled up the rest of the dead plants outside. I cleaned the kitchen cupboards and made molasses creams and swept the garage and considered Halloween costumes for the kids.
And I did some cooking. Mr. Sundberg has been away giving a talk titled “Intuitive Living” to a few groups up on the North Shore so I invited Angela to visit Sunday for an afternoon of food and conversation, and did we have a time. The kids were around, working on projects for school and commenting on the meal of pure comfort we were preparing: a whole roasted chicken (which I, in truth, have never before prepared — strange fluke — and which Angela took it upon herself to show me) and creamed corn casserole and caramelized carrots and blueberry muffins and the most wonderful baked pumpkin for which Angela brought the recipe and the enthusiasm.
It took two hours to bake. The kids thought it was a joke, some kind of Halloween trick, something that might explode if left alone on the table too long. It was a pie pumpkin, mid-sized, cleared of pulp and seeds and stuffed with bread and cheese and cream and butter and a few spices. Baked until soft, the insides scraped and mixed in with the filling, steaming hot and about the most mouth-watering pile of pumpkin goo you’ll ever encounter. It was gloriously delicious, and needed salt, and we, all of us, ate until we sat back with blurred vision and declared we could eat no more.
It’s good this golden time of year to sit back now and then and indulge oneself. Doesn’t have to be a stuffed pumpkin. Could be a good book or a hot bath. You don’t take a moment now and then, you’ll miss out. True as blue, and trust me, I know. I’ve missed my share of waltzes and boat rides. Don’t want to miss no more.
I never make this recipe in the summer time; it’s an autumn pancake, sometimes winter, and it’s perfect with sausage and orange juice on a rainy fall day.
Baked Apple Pancake
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 T sugar
2 cups white flour, sifted
3 tart apples–peeled, cored and sliced
3 T butter
1/2 cup sugar
3 tsp cinnamon
1 container cream
Beat the eggs until thick; add the milk, salt, and sugar. Sift in the flour, mixing it well. Let batter stand for half an hour. Meanwhile, prepare the apples and cinnamon sugar (1/2 cup sugar mixed with 3 tsp cinnamon) Butter well two 8- or 9- inch round cake pans and sprinkle with part of the cinnamon sugar. Arrange the sliced apples in the pans and sprinkle with the remaining cinnamon sugar and dot with butter. Pour the pancake batter over the apples, dividing it evenly between the pans. Bake at 375 for 30 minutes or until the top is golden brown and set. Cut into wedges and serve plain or with cream poured over each serving. Makes 2 pancakes.