enjoy it as much as we did when you were growing up and that your family scrapes every last bite from the skillet, too!
As she stands up to prepare the ingredients, Lauren tries to imagine again how many children grew up in this house and what mealtimes must have looked like for their family. She peels three Granny Smith apples, cuts the core from each, and then cuts them into thin slices before making the batter of eggs, flour, whipping cream, butter, salt, nutmeg, and vanilla. She prepares a mixture of white sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg and sets it beside the stove. When a quarter cup of butter has melted inside the skillet, she sprinkles half of the sugar mixture over it and then places the apple slices on top. As the recipe instructs, she puts a lid on the skillet for three to four minutes as the apples get a little tender. The smell of the apples fills the kitchen with an aroma that reminds Lauren of Betty’s Bakery. “Watch out, Betty! I’m coming for ya!” she says, smiling. She sprinkles the remaining sugar mixture over the apples and then pours the batter on top, waiting until it bubbles before removing the skillet from the stove and setting it inside the oven. She turns on the oven light and looks inside. Without any experience, she never thought she would be able to follow a recipe, but each of these recipe cards is written in such a way that’s easy to understand. The simple language makes the food sound delicious, enticing Lauren to try each dish. In a way that she can’t explain, she hopes that this mother would be proud of her.
Bacon is sizzling when Travis opens the garage door that leads into the kitchen. “Is that bacon I smell?” he says, grinning. He notices the apple pancake sitting on top of the stove. “Holy mackerel! What is that?”
Lauren giggles as he marches to the stove and leans down to take a whiff. “It’s a German Apple Pancake.”
He stares at her and back at the apple pancake. “Who are you and what have you done with my wife? I was coming in for a bowl of cereal.”
She laughs at him, swatting his hand away before he can touch the pan. “Go wash your hands! The bacon will be ready when you get back.” Travis was right; if they ate breakfast, it was normally a bowl of cereal, but she has a feeling all of that is going to change. She sets the bacon on a plate covered with a paper towel, slices the apple pancake, and calls Travis to breakfast.
August 1972
Joan pulls on a pair of drawstring pants and cinches them tight around her waist. Her already petite frame has lost enough weight that the jeans and slacks she was wearing just two months ago no longer fit. She still tries out her mom’s recipes, but the smell of the food ultimately makes her nauseous and she ends up nibbling at the food, at best. Her mom and mother-in-law have taken turns making meals and freezing them for ease, but when she’s able, Joan wants to be in the kitchen with Gigi and Christopher.
“Are you feeling good, Mommy?” Gigi asks, peeking her head inside her mom and dad’s bedroom.
Joan hates that cancer has made her five-year-old tiptoe around her at times, wondering if she’s too sick to play a game, take her to the park, or cook together in the kitchen. “I’m feeling awesome!” she says, fibbing.
“Then what’s for breakfast?” Gigi asks, leaning against the bed.
“How about scones or Grandma’s cinnamon loaf? Of course, that needs to rise, so it will take a long time, but just think of that warm, buttery, cinnamony goodness with pecans on top!”
Gigi thinks for a second. “What’s the shorter thing you said?”
“Scones.” Joan tidies her bed as she talks. Even on her worst days she likes to make the bed, convinced that it helps her feel better. “It’s like a yummy, heavy biscuit with blueberries, raspberries, chocolate chips, cinnamon, or whatever we want to put inside them. Grandma used to make them for me when I was your age.”
“Mmm!” Gigi says, helping her mom make the bed. “Chocolate chips, please!”
Joan laughs. “I knew you would say that. Did Daddy already leave for work?”
Gigi nods, tossing a throw pillow onto the bed. “I think so. I couldn’t find him when I came downstairs.”
John has been going to work earlier each day with the heating