Homemade Desserts

Last week, on Sunday, I made homemade chocolate chip cookies. I should know this recipe by heart since I grew up making them in my Mom's kitchen. I have fond memories of me and my sister making chocolate chip cookies with my Mom. My favorite part was when I would carefully measure out the flour in the measuring cup and slice off the excess from the top with a butter knife leaving behind a perfectly smooth surface of flour. My sister would crack open the eggs being careful not to get any pieces of the shell in the bowl. The last step - adding the chocolate chips - was the culminating moment when we looked forward to eating the raw dough by the spoonfuls!
"Not too much," Mom would remind us. "We need some left over to bake for cookies." Sometimes I ate so much cookie dough that by the time the cookies were done baking, I ate just one or two from the oven.
On Sunday, as I slowly stirred the chocolate chips into the dough so that none spilled over the edge, a smile came to my face and I thought of my Mom and sister. And when the cookies were done baking, I only had room enough for one.

The cookies were gone within a few days. So today, a week later, I baked Apple Crisp. It's a simple recipe of about 5 granny smith apples, oats, flour, sugar, butter, cinnamon and nutmeg baked together in a small casserole dish. I thought about dashing out to the grocery store to buy vanilla icecream to eat with it when it was done baking in the oven, kindof like pie ala mode.
"Mmmm," I said to myself as I practicly drooled at the thought of scooping the icecream over the piping hot dessert until it melted into one, irresistable delicacy. But, I know my husband prefers chocolate mint icecream, which means I'd be left to finish the entire gallon of vanilla by myself before it got frosty in the freezer. I didn't want that "responsibility" nor the known fat content, so I skipped the icecream. When the apple crisp was done baking I set it on the stove top to cool off before eating.
At that point, my daughter was ready for bed. I read a story to her and tucked her in tight, but as I got up to leave she pulled on my shirt, "Don't go mommmy, please! Stay with me." So I lay there with her for awhile so that she could be comforted even though the apple crisp was calling my name, getting cooler by now. Then the thought occurred to me that in a few years my daughter would not be begging me to stay with her but rather, as a teenager who knows it all, might be asking me to leave her room. A tear rolled down my eyes and I held her tighter. She smiled, laying there peacefully. I left the room and she fell asleep quickly.
I went to the kitchen and scooped out several spoonfuls of Apple Crisp onto a dish. I took a bite. As cold as the apples that came out of the refrigerator. But it was too good to put down and re-heat. I finished it and helped myself to some more. This time I didn't mind waiting to eat the homemade dessert.