Baked Stuffed Apples

I used to love these when I was a little girl! They look so pretty and are like your very own special little apple pie! Well, I happened to have 3 apples left and a sheet of frozen pie pastry in the freezer to use up quickly before the apples got forgotten and turned to applesauce…on their own.

There’s nothing more sad when fruit gets misplaced and goes bad and you have to pitch it to the birds. The birds of course are appreciative, but there’s nothing I hate more than food waste.

Besides giving me a terrible guilt complex, it’s a shameful waste of money! Yes, I’ve been known to pinch pennies until Lincoln’s eyeballs are popping out, and being wasteful is just plain a pet peeve!

So what to do with them? Dinner was already planned. Actual homemade applesauce seemed silly with only 3 apples, our internet was down all day and I had searched about every cookbook I own for ideas and nothing sounded good. So, hours later, that sheet of pastry in the freezer that kept getting shoved to the back was finally looking like a darned good idea!



Finally an idea hit me…Eureka! Baked stuffed apples!! I re-opened about a dozen cookbooks for a recipe and baking times/temps but couldn’t find a single one! So I stubbornly gave up and decided to just wing-it. I was tired of racking my brain, no internet all day was frustrating enough, and I just wanted my quest to finally be done! Put a plan into some kind of action and finally have fun! 


So after hollowing out the cores, I just eyeballed the space and figured the brown sugar to a "T". I was determined by now that this was not only going to work, it was going to be perfect and fabulous.  If I messed up coring them…. I'd chop them. If I tore the pastry beyond use…I’d make rustic tarts. The day was going to turn around and I was going to make it happen! 


And they turned out beautiful! Just like the ones I remembered from when I was a little girl at my Grandma’s house on a hot summer day! The only things missing was some homemade, hand-churned ice cream, and her. And Grandpa, who would whistle soft songs to the birds and toss a few small pieces out to them to enjoy, too.

Sitting on the porch with my Grandparents and my own little perfect “apple pie.”. Such warm, wonderful memories.

I hope these remind you of your fondest childhood memories, too! And don’t forget to pick up, or make, some good vanilla ice cream!

Source: wildflourskitchen

April Post / A Knife With A Pearl Handle

If you never had an older brother you may have felt that your life wasn't complete. Well I did and most of the time I wished that I didn't.

When I was little they said my older brother was so proud of me. That anywhere he went he carried me and set me down where I could watch him and his friends play. Everyone said that we were insuperable.

Someone had asked my brother would he take anything for his little brother and he quickly spoke up. No I want swap my little brother for anything. Well as this made my parents proud and it really made my grandmother proud as she told all of her friends and family members the story about my big brother and his little brother.

My Uncle Clifford had heard the story and so he thought that he would see if he could get my big brother to change his mind. So this one day when he came over my mother's mother (Grandma B.) was there and he
asked Oliver (my brother) if he would give him my little brother. He quickly replied, "No." Then Uncle Clifford asked him would he trade him his little brother for something. And again his reply was, "No." My grandmother was smiling all the while knowing he wouldn't trade away his little brother. Then out Uncle upped the ante and said, "Would you trade him for a knife?" and again Oliver said, "No." That's when Uncle Clifford took out the knife and asked him again the second time.  "Would you trade your brother with me for this knife?" That when Oliver asked him, "Does it have two blades." And his reply was, "Not only does it have two blades but it has a Pearl Handle as well." Then my brother said,  "Sure I will trade you even Steven."

Palmer Waters