Last night, I was sitting with my friend, Bill, who was watching baseball while I read. Suddenly tears started falling down my face. I looked up and said to Bill, I miss my Dad. Yeah, he said, but you have to remember what tough shape he was in. I know, I said. The anniversary of his death is coming up. I know. Its going to be a hard Christmas for your mom. Yes. A few more tears, while I sat there remembering my Dad sitting at the kitchen table, one of the last times I saw him. He was wearing a nice shirt, he always dressed nicely, and my Mom made sure his clothes were extremely clean and pressed, always. On this occasion, he was sitting at the table with his arms resting there, his hands loosely gripped, his watch a little loose on his wrist, and we were were having a conversation where he would kind of circle around and ask the same question again and again. And because I didnt have to deal with Alzheimers all the time, it was no effort for me to answer the same way over and over again. It was, in fact, kind of pleasant, like saying Ooooooooommmmmm again and again like in yoga class. Im thinking of him because I made that pumpkin bread today, I said. Bill nodded. Hed just had a slice. (I had had four or five.) My Dad gave me the recipe for my pumpkin bread. He was a great cook. He made strudel from scratch. And he was always trying new things. In honor of Fall, and in honor of Art Hoff, who was that rarest of things, a true gentleman, heres the recipe. I use a little less sugar, a little more spice, and a few more cranberries and walnuts. Cranberry Pumpkin Bread 3 3/4 c. flour 3 cups sugar 4 t. pumpkin pie spice 2 t. baking soda 1 t. salt 4 eggs 1 15-oz can solid-pack pumpkin 1/2 cup canola oil 2 cups fresh or frozen cranberries 1 cup chopped walnuts Preheat oven to 350. Mix dry ingredients. In another bowl, mix wet ingredients. Combine wet with dry just until moistened. Fold in cranberries and walnuts. Put into two greased 9 x 5- inch loaf pans. Bake 70-80 minutes. Relish the smell. When the bread has cooled, have a slice plain or with butter or with cream cheese. Toast my Dad, who used to call me Bethie and who was my hero.
Posted on: Thu, 03 Oct 2013 13:22:32 +0000
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