I am damned if I do and I am damned if I don’t! The husband does
complain at times about the “fresh baked” treats that adorn our kitchen
counter(no one else seems to complain…). And when I do take a break
from endless hours in the kitchen, and there is nothing under the glass
dome, he sighs, makes a comment, and pouts.
This past Friday night was one of those occassions. We had just finished a lovely Friday night dinner of roasted salmon with homemade teriyaki sauce, baked brown rice, and sauteed zucchini. No dessert. I did, however, have frozen cookie doughs in the freezer, but that wouldn’t do. Although it wasn’t what he wanted, the kids talked him in to a Pinkberry run. I was perfectly happy with my mini yogurt with fresh berries, but I knew that baking was going to be part of the weekend agenda.
Every year about this time, Mimi and Granddaddy traipse up through
Georgia’s mountains to find some of the Peach State’s greatest
fruits–apples! Each autumn, the Peach State yields bushels and bushels
of apples and my grandparents seem to always
bring many of those bushels back to our now empty peach country.
“Whatever will we do with all these apples? “ Mimi always inquires; yet
her queries are always quelled once she gets to cooking and baking
with the bounty from their mountain travels.
Clafoutis. You've eaten one. You've probably baked one. You've definitely heard of one. But can you define one? What is a clafoutis?
This dish is so good that I had to hold my self back from eating the entire dish. A new Sunday morning favorite has just arrived. I inevitably always have left over Challah.