As you might remember, grandma passed away last November and I’ve been missing her ever since. It’s not that I saw her that often, but I liked to know she was always there. For the past 18 years I made plans to stay with her for a week and learn how to make green walnuts jam, biscuits and cheese pie, but I never got around to do it. She lived in the countryside, she only got a toilet 5-10 years ago, the summers were too hot and the winters too cold and so on. Excuses, excuses. And now she’s no more.
I have this thing for homemade ice-cream. As with most things I cherish, it reminds me of my summers at my grandparents in the country side, where from time to time my grandma would treat us to homemade vanilla ice-cream from beautiful coffee cups. When I come to think of it, I´ve been making ice-cream for years: I “accidentally” put chocolate mousse in the freezer all the time and I make smoothie with so many frozen berries it´s practically a sorbet. 😉
So the other day we picked some more sour cherries and since I didn´t have time to try my skills at a real American cherry pie, I found this recipe that sounded doable, considering we had guests in the evening.
I´ve already shared this recipe with you on my Romanian blog, but since not all of you read Romanian and not all of you follow it, I thought I should post it here, too. 😉
A couple of days ago I picked a bowl of sour cherries straight from the tree and I felt like baking a cake, the type of summer cake that my childhood was filled of.
As I might have mentioned before, I grew up with my grandma. My parents lived in the same city and would eat dinner with us everyday, help us with our homework and then go home. We would spend the weekends together. I always found that difficult and I still do. But that´s a story for another day.
Today I wanted to tell you a funny story from back when I was 10 years old. My mum reminded me of it, I had completely forgotten. You see, my grandma had a friend, Madam Diaconu, and she was a stylish lady. Or at least wannabe stylish- she would wear a wig, black or red pearls and red lipstick. And even though I didn´t like her much, I must have admired her charms ´cause my mother “caught” me coming back from school with a hideous old-lady pearl string on top of my patterned sweater. She laughed so hard when she reminisced that I thought she´d choke! Haha! I can picture myself, the wannabe diva, too young to be bad-taste and too old to be cute! haha! Unfortunately I don´t have a picture close by, so I´ll give you this cutie instead.
Every fall I get taken aback by nostalgia. I´m an autumn gal, born in September and my whole being is very much like fall- always in search for colour, restless and melancholic. I have this recurring image that hunts me: I´m a skinny 14 year old girl, sitting under the quince tree in my grandma´s garden, in a t-shirt, it´s September and I´m happy. The quince tree died a while ago and my grandma moved into my brother´s old bedroom at my parents´. I haven´t been 14 for 19 years now and fall will never be what it was that particular sunny day. Still, that´s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of fall. I love fall for its return to routine (virgos are known for our need for things to be as they have always been). I find joy in the freshness of the air, in starting wearing my autumn clothes, in meeting friends again. Summer is amazing, but it´s such a disruption of everyday life. And although I live my life suspended on dreams and plans, I feel safe in my everyday moments. Thought I´d share some with you.