Tag Archives: reflections

Heartwings Love Notes 2045 An old fashioned Dessert

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In the small town where I grew up, there were three food stores: a First National Store, resembling today’s supermarkets only much smaller, where you walked up and down the aisles, selecting your own groceries; and two other food stores–both of which sold liquor as well. These assembled your purchases for you and even delivered them to your house. You could even call in your order.

What I purchase on an average shopping trip today wouldn’t fit into my mother’s kitchen. It was small and utilitarian: a stove, a sink, and a refrigerator. She had a small pantry closet that held mixing bowls and a few cans. My mother shopped frequently and did not keep much food on hand. I don’t remember how old I was when we replaced the old icebox with a modern refrigerator, however I can remember the ice man clip-clopping down the street with the big chunks of ice in his wagon.

Except in the summer, fresh green vegetables were rare. A cellar closet held the glass jars of beans and other vegetables my mother had preserved, as well as jellies she made from summer fruit. Winter squash was stored to eat later on, as were potatoes. One of my tasks was occasionally to pick the sprouts off. We ate canned peas. Frozen food was not commonly available in the early forties.

One of my favorite recipes from my mother’s limited dessert menu (she didn’t believe in giving children many sweets) is Cottage Pudding. While it does not have the consistency of a pudding, it has acquired that name. A simple muffin type batter baked as a cake it is served with either strawberries or chocolate or lemon sauce. Try this when you are seeking some comfort food and see if it doesn’t do the trick.

Cottage Pudding and Sauces

Preheat oven at 400 degrees and grease an 8 inch square pan or six cupcake tins.

Ingredients: 1 1/2 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 cup sugar

1 well beaten egg

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup melted butter

1 Teaspoon Vanilla

Sift together flour, baking powder, sugar and salt. Mix egg, milk vanilla and melted butter. Stir gently into flour mixture–like for muffins, only enough to moisten ingredients. Do not beat. Pour into greased pan or muffin cups. Bake until browned and pulling away from pan. (20 to 25 minutes) Serve WARM with the sauce of your choice. This is not as good the next day unless you warm it up.

Choice Sauces

Strawberries and Cream (Avoid pesticide laden inorganic berries!)

Slice up strawberries, mix with a little sugar, let sit for half day or if the berries are large and tough, cook for about 15 minutes then cool and serve with whipped cream or topping.

Bittersweet Chocolate Sauce

Melt together 2 squares unsweetened chocolate, 1/4 cup butter. Add 1 cup sugar, stir well. Sprinkle in a few grains of salt and add 1/2 cup water. Cook and stir until sauce is as thick as you like. Cool slightly and add 1 teaspoon vanilla. Serve warm or cold.

Mary’s Lemon Sauce

Melt 1/2 cup butter over moderate heat. Stir in 1 cup sugar, 4 Tablespoons water, 1 beaten egg, 1/4 cup lemon juice, and the grated rind of 1 or more lemons, to taste. Cook and stir until it boils and thickens a bit and then remove from heat. It will thicken further as it cools.

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective.com.

Heartwings Love Notes 2043 Gaining Independence

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Heartwings says, “Independence is a goal to be sought after.”

My son Robin insisted on his independence almost from the time he was born. Some children are like that. He resisted attempts to keep him confined in any way, and it was challenging to try. As they say, the apple did not fall far from the tree.  I fear I was much the same as a child, though maybe not as emphatically. I know that to this day, I have a vital streak of independence.

From the beginning of my memory, I was raised to be strong, to not cry unless hard pressed, not to complain and to be as brave as I could. This may have been because I was the oldest and only child for the first eight years of my life. I well recall holding my father’s hands while jumping in the big waves at the beach where we stayed in my great aunt’s beach cottage. They were big waves, and we would stand in them, jumping up as they broke over us. It was exhilarating.

I wasn’t granted independence to leave the large property where we lived, but I could wander all over it, climbing trees and playing my games of pretend on the long summer days of my childhood. I remember one summer I would pretend I was the goose girl of the fairy tale by that name and let the six or seven geese had raised that year, out of their pen, herding them down to the little wetlands and back. I was always safe on the property, and my parents had confidence in me. No doubt that contributed to my sense of independence.

Sometimes this strong sense works to my advantage, and at other times it does not. It has taken me time to recognize that sometimes I really do need help, whether it is getting out of a car or up from a deep armchair or sofa. I appreciate it enormously when a dinner guest washes our dishes or helps with food preparation. I am learning my limits, something I am often loath to acknowledge and also learning to accept help graciously.

Sometimes it is entertaining to have a new way of doing something. When my daughter suggested I try it, I recently had fun riding the shopping cart at the supermarket. Maybe I’ll do that again, perhaps even next time and avoid getting so tired from shopping. Sometimes independence can mean freedom from discomfort and disability.

Independence can certainly mean many things. In some countries the independence of free speech, let alone freedom of behavior, does not exist. When this is threatened, it is important to take notice. As the saying goes, freedom is not free, it must be maintained. I still try to be independent, even as I also try to remember to ask for help. In addition, I try to remember to be grateful for the independence I still do have.  

May you find your way to whatever independence you wish to enjoy,

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS If you have comments or tales to tell, please share them. It is my joy to be in touch with my readers.   

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective.com.

Heartwings Love Notes 2042: The Empty Nest

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Heartwings says, “Empty nests come and go and life moves on.”

This spring I had been caught by a cold, keeping me indoors and canceling the normal often daily walks I usually took on the porch outside the sliding door of our second-floor apartment. The long porch, with its own set of stairs at one end, runs the length of the two apartments on the floor where we live above the shops that are on the building’s first floor.

As many back and forths as I could manage was my usual routine. Much to my surprise, once my cold subsided and I finally opened the sliding door to go out on the porch, a robin squawked and flew away. Something made me look up at the outdoor light and to my surprise I saw that a sturdy nest had been built on top of it. There was a pile of discarded nesting materials on the floor beneath the nest, and the I remembered seeing a robin carrying straw in its beak as it flew.

I seldom opened the door after that, or went onto the porch. Any time I did, there was a flurry of wings and an exit from the nest. The mother robin was diligent and mindful. The peeps and cheeping from the nest soon announced the arrival of the baby birds. I had hoped to see the fledglings learn to fly but they did it when I was otherwise engaged. One day I looked up and the nest was empty. I never had seen them leave.

I’ve heard that robins may return to the nest and lay more eggs, but so far, that has not happened. Perhaps the mother robin was discouraged by her initial experience.  I miss peeking through the glass of my door and seeing her patiently sitting on her nest. Later I could see the little beaks above the rim of the nest. As I reflected on the experience, I realized my feelings were a perfect example of the empty nest syndrome. When I thought about it, I had to laugh to myself. What a perfect pun.

Recently Stephen handed me a small blue broken eggshell he’d found on the porch. How special, a gift from a hatchling. With a sigh I set it on my desk. Experiences run their course; nothing stays the same. Children grow up. You wouldn’t want them not to. Kittens become cats. Most probably young kittens, like young children, must be endearing so we will take care of them until they can care for themselves. And then we are faced with the empty nest syndrome.

Change is the rule of the cosmos. We go from full to empty and back to full again. 

May your empty nests fill with joy.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS If you have any stories to share I’d be happy to hear them. Your comments, dear reader, are always helpful. Please feel free to write, it is such fun for me. My email is tashahal@gmail.com. My blog is http://tashasperspective.com.

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective. Com.

Heartwings Love Notes 2040: Gifts My Father Gave Me

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Heartwings says, “Gifts may be actual and not physical, either or both.”

It’s time to celebrate fathers, and I have been thinking about my dad and how special he was to me, and also to the many people who appreciated his witty behavior. He loved to be entertaining as well as to entertain. Cocktail parties were his chief delight and he gave them often.

He was a generous person. One memory I have is of him sitting by the living room fireplace at Christmas time, wrapping the generous gifts he gave to the gardeners and caretakers of the estates he did business with. He was a horticulturist by nature, like his grandfather, and professionally, an arborist. He truly enjoyed his work and he was very good at it, able to size up a landscape and improve the views from the windows of the any home he was hired to work for.

One special gift he gave me was a love of trees plus the ability to spot what they might need done to improve them. He often took me with him, especially in the summer, when he drove around either supervising his men where they were working or estimating the work to be done for those who had hired him and the company he worked for. As I travel the roads of my town and its neighbors, to this day, I notice trees and find myself thinking of their needs.

He loved flowers and grew beautiful roses. I wish I had inherited that ability. My efforts to grow them have not met with success. I did inherit his love for flowers, buying them to bring their loveliness into my home when I can. My mother once told me that when they were newly married and he was an aspiring playwright, Daddy would spend the grocery money on flowers leaving them forced to have oatmeal to eat for supper. On special occasions, he would often provide my mother and me with corsages. She would get an orchid, while I got a fragrant gardenia, which I loved.

Above all, he was generous with his time and energy, serving in a volunteer capacity as treasurer to a variety of local organizations. He read for the blind on a local radio station, and I’m sure did other kind actions I never knew about. He was deeply religious, attended his Episcopalian church every Sunday, and took us to services on Christmas and Easter, which I loved, another significant gift.

No one is perfect. Neither was he. But the gifts he gave me far outweigh any negative aspects of his character. He set me an important example of the importance of being of service that has increasingly guided my life. Working on behalf of the greater good is what I call it. It’s about showing up for a need. Whether caring for the landscape or for the world at large, my father set a fine example. 

May you remember your fathers’ gifts with joy.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Please, if you have stories to share, write to me and share them. I so enjoy hearing from my readers. Email me at tashahal, at Gmail.com, and check out my blog at http://tashasperspective.com.

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective. Com.

Heartwings Love Notes 2039 The Joy of Friends

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Heartwings says, ” In so many ways in our lives,  friends are important.”

My childhood years were lived in a rural setting, without close neighbors or other nearby children. For all intents and purposes, I was an only child for more than eight years, until the first of my three siblings were born. It was as if we were two families in one, for I was too old to connect with them as playmates or companions, nor was I encouraged to do so. My mother was happy for me to entertain myself, and I did.

She played games with me sometimes, however, I spent most of my time alone. I read books avidly, sometimes going through one a day. My father would bring me a stack from the library each week, and my parents also had a good selection of the classics like the Count of Monte Cristo and Treasure Island. My favorite book was The Swiss Family Robinson, which I read over and over, imagining myself as part of their adventures as they lived ingeniously on a deserted island after a shipwreck.

Besides reading books, I played imaginary games and fixed up my doll house, creating furniture out of match boxes and other small items. Sometime around age nine, when I was in the third grade, I acquired a friend, and she and I often played together on weekends. She wasn’t around in the summer because she went to camp, while I was left alone again to wander the fields and climb trees. She was my first real friend.

Over time, I had others although they were often few and far between. Even the first half of my life as an adult followed the same pattern: One or two special friends that came and went as time and circumstance unfolded. One very dear woman was also a mother. We often combined our children and went to the beach or a movie together. It was a special time in my life. Then my life changed radically and I began to meet and interact with a great many people, and in the process, I began to make many friends.

After a first half of life with so few friends, it seems a wonderful thing to have an abundance. Some are and some are not still present in my life, and there are friends I have not laid eyes on for years. Yet that makes no difference; my affection for them has not diminished with time. I still wonder how they are long after they are no longer in contact with me. The lesson I have had to learn and surely have had many opportunities to do so, is that people do grow away into different interests, or even lifestyles. Yet although we have parted, and even if we are no longer close, these friends are still in my heart.

There is much truth in the saying, “People come into your life for a reason, for a season, or for a lifetime.” I have learned to find joy in all my friendships, whether long or short.

May your friendships be a source of joy in your life.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS I welcome correspondence and encourage you to share your thoughts, feelings and suggestions. Do write to me at tashahal@gmail.com  and make my day.

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective. Com.

Heartwings Love Notes 2038 Precious Moments

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Heartwings says, “Memories are fun to rummage through, and can be entertaining.”

I don’t use my cell phone often. Usually when I do, it’s to text one of a few friends to share with or for communication with family. So recently, when it rang with a number I didn’t recognize, I figured it was spam. I picked it up and found that it was a call from my grandson inviting us to visit on an app called Face Time. He lives with his wife in Saudi Arabia and he wanted to share his infant son, now four months, with Stephen and me.

Such precious moments are pages in my mental memory album. Some days they show up unbidden to help me recall a time and a place from the recent or even the distant past. One day I had an image of me in my skates, wobbling on a patch of frozen water in a wetland on my Great aunt’s property. I’m around eight years old and I’m wearing my snowsuit with its cute bonnet tied under my chin.

The feeling of the thick woolen snowsuit with its accompanying snow-pants comes back to me, the vivid memory expanding as I think about it. Nylon outerwear and lightweight winter clothing was in the future. Such memories are fun to enjoy and help me recall a childhood spent outdoors. As long as the weather was neither windy or too cold, I was appropriately dressed and sent out of doors to play among the trees and open fields of the property.

Recently I recalled how after there had been a great storm, a large section of a tree trunk, perhaps three feet in diameter and four or five long appeared in the wetlands we called a swamp, though by today’s standards, it really was not. I was delighted to see it and it became part of my fun, serving as a kind of home for small things. I played “house” a lot of the time. Then I found something really special. It was a pane of glass, not chipped, cracked or imperfect in any way, with blue and gold painted around the edges.

As I reflect on it now, it seems to me it was probably part of a picture frame, but then it was a magical item to be cherished and admired, a treasure given me by the sea. It became part of my log home and cherished accordingly. Then one day there was another great storm and when I went to where it had been, the log and the pane of glass were both gone without a trace. I was a bit sad, but soon went on to find other playthings. Still the items remain, standing out in my memory of my childhood spent outdoors in nature.

I know now how fortunate I was to have this special time growing up. So many children do not have that experience. Nature is such a fine teacher. Her school provides a lifelong experience that surpasses anything a computer or a cell phone can provide.

May you have recollections to enjoy from time to time

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Love to hear your reminiscences, and hoping you would like to share. Please write me at tashahal@gmail.com, and sign up here at my blog to get more Love Notes at http://tashasperspective/pujakins.

Heartwings Love Notes: Once a Mom Always a Mom

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Heartwings says, “Mothers deserve to be acknowledged every day, not just one.”

Most of the time, once you have a baby, something changes. You are now a mom, with all that entails. A tug to the heartstrings connects you to the tiny being you now hold. It is a special bond, unlike any other because it can last as long as you live, and rightly so, because it surpasses distance and circumstance. It may be stronger for some than for others, however nature has probably designed it for us so the survival of the species is assured. It seems built in.

The day to honor mothers brings out remembrances of one’s own, as well as (hopefully) acknowledgement from one’s children. Having just this morning, the day before the official one, received a call from one of mine, I am still basking in the glow from it. I know I will hear more, as I did today. My dear family is good about keeping in touch. I feel most fortunate for this.

My own dear mother is now no longer in her physical body, yet she is still in my heart and always will be. Though like most parents and children we had our differences, for a long time now all has been forgiven. As we grow older most recognize that our parents do the best they can and we have benefited from their care even though we may feel that we suffered from aspects of it. Fortunately for most of us, wisdom comes with time and experience, and with hindsight we see the past in a different light.

Mothers often try to protect their children from what they see as bad or as harmful. This is based on their own experiences or what they have been told by others. It may or may not be relevant but as mothers, all we have to go on is what we believe at the time. And times do change. Once comic books were considered a bad influence. I remember there was a lot of talk about this. Now that is no longer an issue; other warnings have taken their place. Mothers still have the same desire to protect the young.

Does this ever go away? I think not. Speaking for myself I know my children must tire of my warning them to get enough sleep or to be mindful of something or other. A mother must allow for the continuation of the mother instinct as it persists regardless of our ages. No doubt, in my opinion this proves mothering must be built in.

The main thing, to my mind is to remember not to nag one’s children or to act disapproving if they somehow manage to ignore or not to heed our advice. Equally important is not to be critical as they learn things by making mistakes. It is truly said what is most important about making mistakes is to learn from them.  Knowing she did the best she could, today I bless my dear mother, and I am grateful.

May you be a loving mom even if you have no one of your own to mother.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Tell me about your mom and what she did for you. I do so enjoy hearing from my readers. Write to me at tashahal@gmail.com, or better yet, sign up for my weekly column at http://tashasperspective.com

Heartwings Love Notes 2034: And God Bless the Caterpillars

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Heartwings says, “Nature is a wonderful teacher.”

My dandelion headed five-year-old was saying his prayers. He included the caterpillars in their jars on the window sill. We had filled the jar with what we hoped was the appropriate leaves for food and twigs to climb, and each night we prayed for them. The time was 1968, and my son was one of five, active, bright, friendly, loving children.

The caterpillars munched, spun cocoons on the twigs, and were quiet. We waited in vain for butterflies to emerge. Together we concluded that caterpillars did not do well in captivity and perhaps it was better for them to go free. Lessons on many levels were learned from the experience. I don’t know whether my son remembers the caterpillars, but he is now a grown man with a strong sense of curiosity, a fine capacity for observation and a desire to do some good in the world. The eager child lives on in the man.

One day the family visited someone who had guinea pigs. Naturally the children were fascinated and the pet shop that sold us our first pair agreed to buy back progeny. I was delighted at the opportunity to give the children a first hand lesson in biology, and all went well until we elected to do a breeding experiment. Unfortunately our breeding program coincided with a glut of guinea pigs at the pet shop. My living room filled up with boxes holding a total of fifteen furry squeakers and any time the refrigerator door opened, a chorus of squeals filled the house.

In the process my oldest daughters found out first hand that one cannot always rely on original solutions but must plan for contingencies, and of course they had graphic experience in where babies come from! Now that they have their own children, they have fostered the same sense of adventure in their offspring and have carried on the same love affair with nature.

Nature is a great teacher of many things, and the care with which it is arranged has a significant message for us. We are part of the cycles of emergence, growth, and return to the whole. We circulate life energy the way a tree does. Once we believed we were in charge but this conviction is eroding with our recognition of the results of that belief. Our attunement to the part we play in the natural order of life seems to me to be more important than ever to our growth as healthy, positive human beings.

Parenting seems best learned by experience. Children are resilient, and with goodwill and good luck most of us will succeed in raising well-adjusted children. Doing what we most enjoy with our youngsters often results in happiness for all, but observing and participating in the processes of nature can easily and quickly return us to the joys of childhood as well as bring us pleasure in the present.

Looking together at snowflake crystals, searching for seashells, tenderly weeding small gardens—the days of my companionship with my children are cherished memories. I learned as much from them as they did from me. Too, nature is a great teacher and I am grateful to her for the lessons I learned as well as the beauty I have seen and enjoyed. I am proud, too, of my children for their positive attitudes and approaches to life, often learned at Mother Nature’s knee. And I say with my son, God bless the caterpillars, God bless them all.

May you find your pleasure in nature’s bounty.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Thanks for reading this.  Please write to me and share your experiences of joy and happiness. I so do like hearing from readers. Email me by hitting reply or by writing me at tashahal@gmail.com. My blog on WordPress to sign up for my weekly writing is https://tashasperspective.com/Pujakins.

Heartwings Love Notes 2033 Beauty Everywhere I Look

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Heartwings says, “It is well to appreciate whatever beauty appears as it does.”

Every day now when I open my bedroom curtains, I see the advance of spring. It is a grand treat to watch the advance of the season. The buds on the trees near my back porch are all in different stages of development. When I go for my exercise walks there, I observe the small, delicate baby leaves day by day as they unfurl from the originally tightly closed buds. They are visible on a bush growing close to one end of the porch. From the other end, there is a wondrous row of tall trees in various stages of unfolding.

When I am at my desk in the front of our apartment, I can see that the trees outside on the street where I live are now growing green. Only days before they bore only bare branches. Every spring I am reminded of how I would see the maple trees outside the windows of the high school I attended in Boston, grow green and leaf out as they expanded with the warming days. Then I would travel back home on the train, to where the buds on the branches of the trees around our house were still tightly closed, marveling at the difference.

Spring beauty is all pastel budding trees and flowering trees and bushes. Wherever I drive I first see the brilliant forsythia as it begins the floral procession, providing a special kind of sunshine on a cloudy day. That is followed by the abundant blossoms of the magnolia trees that burgeon in the yards and by the roadsides. Every spring I have to struggle to keep my eyes on the road as I drive.

Traveling the highway is another special treat, though mostly in the past for me. Most of my driving these days is local, and only in the daytime. Still, I do feel fortunate to be able to watch the development of the season as it moves across the land, even if it is from my window. One of the special things about New England is the wonderful and dramatic change that comes with each season. I even like the storms, as long as I can stay in and watch them from inside my home.

Summer heat and humidity will be along soon enough. It sounds like heresy to say it, yet I must admit it is my least favorite season. I tend to feel listless and uncomfortable in the summer, and I am very grateful for our air conditioner, as is Stephen. I am always happy when fall, my favorite season, arrives and starts to transform the landscape. My appetite picks up as does my energy. In spring that starts to dwindle and it almost vanishes in the summer.

Still, that is to come, and for now it is time to enjoy what this season has to offer. I am grateful that I can appreciate the loveliness everywhere I look.

May you find beauty to see wherever you are.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. What do you find that gives you joy in the seasons? Please do share with me either here or at tashahal@gmail.com. I so enjoy hearing from readers. You can also read this and past Love Notes on my Facebook page and my blog, https://tashasperspective.com/Pujakins

Heartwings Love Notes 2032 Learn by Doing it Wrong

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Heartwings says, “If the cook enjoys the cooking, the food often tastes better.”

As any of my long-time readers know, I had to teach myself to cook. My mother didn’t like to and didn’t really want me in the kitchen. She lacked the patience to teach me and was usually too busy with my three younger siblings to have the time to do much besides put simple meals on the table. She hadn’t learned to cook from her mother, having grown up with a father in the diplomatic service, so that servants were a necessity.

As a new bride, with cookbook in hand, I set out to feed my new husband. I made some simple mistakes, and soon learned from them. Some of them were good learning experiences. One of my first was the belief that we ought to have meat at least twice a day, at both lunch and dinner. My husband’s ROTC salary was small and had to cover all our living expenses, so we ate a lot of the cheapest meat I could find, which was hot dogs.

We ate a lot of them, boiled, as my mother had cooked them. Fortunately, my new husband was fine with that, and as we were only eighteen and twenty, we did just fine on our simple diet. Our new baby daughter ate along with us. To save money, I began experimenting and soon learned to make casseroles. Our family grew and so did my range of expertise. My husband preferred simple meat and potatoes meals. My two little girls liked casseroles, and that was encouraging. My sons imitated their father. However, I instituted a “three bite” rule. They learned not to automatically reject what I served.

Baking came later. I spent a long time learning to make good muffins. The mixes available were not very good, and frankly, I’ve never wanted to use a mix if I could use my own ingredients. My early muffins suffered from my attempts at baking cakes. Lots of beating is the standard for good cakes. Quite the contrary for muffins. After many batches of non-rising, tough, though edible muffins, I finally found this out.

As the years have gone by, I have also had other important lessons. For instance, there is a type of pie pan made with holes in the bottom that is meant only for baking the crust of a pie to be filled after it has been baked. I learned this when as I was sitting with my dinner guests, the blueberry pie filling I had put into the unbaked pie shell began dripping onto the floor of the oven. This was a shock. Fortunately, my guests were understanding.

Cooking is both a science and an art. Even as a child, I enjoyed it, though I am the only one in my birth family to do so. Once, I contemplated making a mud pie cookbook. As an adult I wrote two simple cookbooks: one for cookies, one when we became sugar free and vegetarian.

May you enjoy your adventures with food.”

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. Do you have recipes or cooking adventures to share? Please do let me know what you know, I so enjoy hearing from readers. Please write me by hitting reply. Sign up at my blog for more at https://tashasperspective.com/Pujakins.