Apple pie: Joie de vivre!
of Manuela Metra.
Scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, apples and is just home. My home, the one I chose and built, not the family legacy. The Apple pie is for me the dessert par excellence. The good cake, with its crumbly and slightly salty. A little rustic. It sold its perfection of shape in exchange for a warm heart, full of spicy sweetness, mixing the pungent notes of cinnamon and nutmeg, those of caramelized sugar, the bitter apples Granny Smith. In a perfect balance. This poem is accompanied by vanilla ice cream for a reverberation of contrasts between hot and cold, and wove a timeless speech. Perfect for happy times, for moments of reflection, of creation, and for consolation. Apple pie is the dessert of America, a national sweet, is also called American pie, they say “as American as apple pie”. It an informal cake, a hymn to optimism. I love making cakes and photograph them, and then taste them, enjoy them for breakfast and for thetime, the moments I absolutely prefer.The sweets has always been a prerogative of my all, in the family, with a “Prussian” Mother with a passion for cooking. But the desserts, by their characteristic way, poetic and superfluous, they were not accessible for her and have become my territory of culinary forays. Talent is born under the bombs of war competition between mother and daughter, and the most harsh criticism, but such was my love for their beauty detached from the function of feeding and feed, to get me through almost unscathed the ostile. It was territory of poetry, was perfume was magnificent. Initially, I thought naively that the doses of the recipes were only an estimate, optional. I was young and artless. My Dad tasted the pies, with a smile, were unbelievable hard, “to be launched against the wall”, commenting on the Prussian Mother.Then I realized that the pastry is chemistry and the doses are mandatory.Years pass, and comes near the house a particular shop, glass backsplashes, cupcakes with blueberries, a nice lady, American, over the counter. The cakes were Beautiful beautiful to die, a foreign beauty. They spoke new language and hope, of a world outside the territory of confrontation with Prussian Mother, up-to-date codes of reading, a fresh taste to open new synapses in my brain hungry and young. A ray of sunshine and sunny air had come to my door.The shop with the kind lady was called California backery. Thus became the sweetest part of my restless years, one out of dynamic space, with no possibility of criticism because there were no comparisons. It was the New in the kitchen. Since then the English language, and even better for me to have the American language, optimism sounds new and dreams that come true. American Cakes represent the joy of fresh flavors, just the sweet side of life.So I became lover of muffins, apple pie, cheese cake, of those kitchen moments of the United States that I connect to the table, lived in joy, informal, even love the brunch .. I went for lessons to California backery, a those on Apple pie. Wonderful! Advice to those who want to learn the tricks to take a parenthesis of sweetness. The atmosphere is professional and friendly at the same time. And then take home a masterpiece. It is perfect for dinner or lunch, bringing an informal atmosphere.