Cesar loves apple pie, so I bake one up when I want to please him. Come to think of it, most of the men in my life, love apple pie. My Grandma Ruby made pie that brought my Father and brothers salivating to the table. She told tales of her mother-in-law, my Great Grandmother Clara, who baked apple pies like mad to feed her seven hungry sons on the farm.
I had a wild hair and decided to try something new, a french apple tart by Ina Garten. It was barely warm from the oven when I could resist no long and sliced off a corner to taste, and it was scrumptious. I carried a warm slice out side for Cesar. He wouldn't eat it. He said he'd just had some ice cream, no room. I need to put a lock on the freezer.
After dinner, I put the girls down for the night and excitedly went downstairs to share the tart with my boys. Hugo had just finished ice cream with his Papa. What!? I was kinda mad. Ice cream would have been perfect with the apple tart. No takers. I ate my tart with a little cream on top.
This morning, Hugo was telling my how hungry he was, he wanted a peanut butter sandwich. I said that peanut butter sandwiches were a good choice for lunch, but that we would be having cereal for our breakfast. He grumbled. Once downstairs, (lightbulb!) I remembered the tart. I told Hugo that I had a better idea, that we could have apple tart for breakfast! He told me no, that he wanted cereal.... I put a slice of tart on a plate along with his vitamin, gave him a glass of milk, and waited. He took a bite. Chew, chew, chew, a big smile! Then Hugo declared, "Mom, you were right! This is waaaay better than cereal!"
No comments:
Post a Comment