Consider Writing

In many ways I am my father’s daughter. I acknowledged that today when I bought five apples from a supermarket discount rack. Five apples for one dollar! Walter was rarely proud of me, but today I imagined him nodding and smiling. The man counted every nickel, invested wisely, and drove me crazy with the cost of living.

Walter did the grocery shopping as my mother’s poor health and early demise left him no other choice. At meals he would recite with pride the price of the sole – two dollars a pound. We knew he paid fifteen cents a pound for string beans. Ten cents a pound for peaches. Chris and I knew the cost of just about every food put on the table. Walter took pride in the bargains he found. He threw in the story about children starving in China and how on merchant ships he often ate food spoiled by maggots. My sister and I listened. In his post-Depression world spending wisely meant money saved. To keep peace at the table, we had better eat everything on our plates.

Getting back to my bargain apples – I rolled pie crust out on a baking stone. (Not a perfect circle, but good enough.) The fruit was tossed with cinnamon, nutmeg, a dash of cloves, lemon juice, and raisins. Once arranged on the stone, I sprinkled streusel topping. Baked at 375 degrees and cut into strips when cooled. There you have a totally thin, delicious apple treat.