http://www.youtube.com/user/domestictranquility1, http://www.graftontv.org/, http://www.facebook.com/graftontv

Tasha and Steven Halpert, 296 Providence Road, Grafton, MA (2024)

08/12/2024

Heartwings Love Notes is here!

Heartwings Love Notes 2049: A Worthwhile Treasure Part Two

Heartwings says, "When something is outgrown, it must be left behind."

I continued to go to church with both my mother and my father, until I went to college. At that point I went only when I was home and the rest of the time, I didn't think much about religion or spirituality. I was busy growing in other ways, and then I met and married my first husband. We started a family, and soon with two little girls to care for, I forgot about my pursuit of spiritual matters.
Then my husband fell asleep at the wheel as he was driving home one night and nearly was killed in an accident. All of a sudden, I felt an urge to return to church. Yet I did not feel good about attending my mother's church or practicing her religion. It simply did not suit me any longer. Like the clothing handed down from my mother's friends' children that I had worn as a child, it no longer fit. I looked for one but didn't and then we moved back from Rhode Island and the army base where my husband was stationed. I found myself able to attend my father's Episcopal church and did so, singing in the choir and eventually teaching Sunday School. I felt as though I had come home.
Beginning with The Hero with a Thousand Faces, I read Joseph Campell's wonderful books on mythology. They broadened my view of spirituality and I continued to search for books that would help me learn and grow. Someone gave me Brother Lawrence's Practice of the presence of God. I was quite taken with the idea and decided to incorporate his practice of the Presence of God into my own life. I began by imagining that God was present for me where ever I was.
Brother Lawrence also introduced me to the idea that any kind of work could be a form of prayer. Until then I had associated prayer primarily with church, bedtime, and emergencies.
Over many years I have come to understand more about this Here is a tale that says more about that. This Hindu legend tells of an advanced student of spiritual wisdom who was sent by his master to visit a renowned teacher on the other side of a forest. He grew weary, sat under a tree and fell asleep. The twittering of birds woke him. Angrily he raised his hands and sent a bolt of energy at them. They fell senseless to the ground. He continued to the hut of the teacher and knocked on the door. No one answered. He tried again. Someone was moving about inside. "Anyone there?" he called out impatiently and knocked a third time.
"Young man," came a voice from within, "I am only an old woman who has lived all my life here in the forest. You have studied great books, and you are even strong enough to knock the birds from the tree, but you will have to be patient with me. I am getting to the door as fast as I can." The young man caught his breath. How could she possibly know what he had done in the forest? Realizing how much he still had to learn, he bowed his head and sighed.
Over many years, my understanding of this practice changed. Now I feel it is always possible to be in the presence of God. If, as Brother Lawrence teaches, God is present everywhere in all people and things. How ever could I not be in that presence. Most think of prayer as a statement, in the form of a petition or perhaps a combination of praise and gratitude. For me prayer has become an underlying theme so that I frequently express my gratitude. Also, when a friend comes to mind, I bless him or her and send light to whatever situation he or she might be in.

May you find help on your path to light when and where you need it.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

To be Continued

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.

08/12/2024

Here is Stephen's fun column

Grandma's Radio by Stephen Halpert

Vera and her friends Lydia and Mattie were sitting around her kitchen table for their weekly afternoon tea. The three women chatted amiably in her cozy kitchen with its red plaid curtains and the old-fashioned canisters on the counter. Vera's prized possession was her grandmother's small brown and yellow radio that she kept on the shelf over her kitchen counter. When her friends spoke of their jewels and other inherited treasures, Vera would point to her grandma's radio and simply say. "This is my treasure, it's magical."
Her friend Lydia smiled. "Of course it is. It was your grandmother's, right there...."
"No," Vera said. "There's more to it than that, a lot more."
"What then?" Lydia stirred more sugar into her tea. She determined that Vera was jealous of her jewelry.
"It's how it brings the past to life," Vera said. "Grandma and I used to listen to soap operas: Our Gal Sunday, Helen Trent, and Stella Dallas. Afterward, Grandma would close her eyes, put her hands over her radio and tell me what would happen next. When I asked her how she knew she'd say that Helen, Stella or Sunday told her."
Lydia shook her head and frowned.
Mattie smiled. Her blue eyes sparkled. "You loved her very much. You miss her. Having her radio touches your heart. Yes?"
"It's not the radio exactly," Vera said.
"Then what is it?" Lydia snapped. She leaned back and patted her burnished curls. Her beauty parlor loved her. She was always changing her hairstyle.
Vera poured more tea. She smiled at her memories. "Grandma somehow could talk with them. When she closed her eyes and imagined them, they'd tell her things."
"The actresses you mean?" Mattie said.
"No," Vera said. "No, the characters themselves. She said when she'd do her imagining she'd see them sitting across from her at her table--just like I see the two of you."
"Spooky!" Lydia frowned, then remembering she wanted to avoid frown lines, she stopped. "Sounds to me like she was delusional."
Vera leaned back in her chair and laughed. "She said maybe what was alive in the three characters appeared to her. She'd conjectured that with maybe a million listeners everyday they had had real life breathed into them."
"Well why not," Mattie said with a smile. "As long as what she did made her happy, who cares whether it was real or not."
"They were like sisters to her. She'd share her feelings with them," Vera sighed and shook her head. "She'd tell Sunday that Lord Henry was an egotistical fool who's only bring her bad luck."
"She said that?" Mattie's eyes widened.
"And what's funny is that Sunday would reply that half the men alive were that way. But she loved Lord Henry and that made it all ok."
"Ridiculous!" Lydia shook her head. "How can people get hung up on such fantasies?"
Vera passed the coffee cake. "Helen Trent was always having trouble with men. She was the eternal victim, always thinking life could be different just around the corner."
Mattie nodded. "I've felt that way a lot."
"And Stella Dallas," Vera looked sad. "Her daughter taken from her. Continually getting the wrong message and being lied to."
Lydia straightened her skirt and brushed off a crumb. "Sounds like real life to me. No one ever said it was supposed to be easy."
Vera nodded and looked at the old brown and yellow Motorola. "I have no idea what life's supposed to be other than what it is."
"Really," Mattie said.
"And to try to understand why it is that way makes no sense. It just is."
Lydia's face reddened. "But if you understand why things are the way they are then you can do something about them, make changes, you know, grow."
"I guess," Vera said. "But it's still the way it is, maybe we can make small changes but don't you think our lives are predestined?"
"This conversation is beyond me," Lydia said rising. "I need to go. I have a Yoga class in a half hour. Thanks for the tea and that delicious coffee cake."
Vera smiled. "Stella Dallas gave me the recipe. She used to make it when she lived in Boston."
"Oh!" Mattie said. "That's why it's so good."
But Lydia held her ground. "You mean your grandmother wrote down a recipe she heard on that show?"
Vera shook her head. "No, she never did that. Stella gave it to me herself."
Lydia's eyes widened. "I'm out of here." As she was leaving, she smiled and waved. "See you all in the loony bin."
After she left Vera smiled and laughed. "I knew she wouldn't believe me but I decided to tell her anyway."
Mattie finished her tea. "I'm not going to ask you anything about that. Whatever you think is fine with me. People have a right to create their own little worlds."
She left soon thereafter. Vera tidied up the kitchen, washed the dishes and put away the coffee cake. Outside the streetlights were coming on. It seemed these days darkness came too early.
Shivering a bit, she put on her warm woolen sweater. Then she got her radio down from the shelf. She put her hands over it and began to hum a tune she remembered from her girlhood. Slowly the shapes of three women materialized and sat down with her around the kitchen table.

A graduate of Emerson College, Stephen Halpert has been a published author since the 1970s. Most recently, his weekly column “American Scene,” which ran in The Grafton News from 1989 to 2022, featured humorous vignettes of his life with his wife, Tasha, and serial fiction. In 2018, Halpert published his first collection of fictional tales, Abracadabra Moonshine and Other Stories, available on Amazon. His next writing venture is titled “Mona Lisa's Eyebrows and other stories.” Contact Stephen to learn more.

08/04/2024

My latest, a bit of autobiography

Heartwings Love Notes 2047 Finding a Worthwhile Treasure, Part One

Heartwings says, "A journey of discovery is fun to share, regardless the goal."

The search for God by whatever definition has always been an important part of my life. Over time it has revolved around the various interpretations of that word. My parents, as well as Emily, my first caregiver and a practical nurse I spent a lot of time with, were all traditionally religious. By traditionally I mean they went to church on Sundays and followed the mainstream Christian beliefs. They were not dogmatic or "born again" Christians, although my mother had a rather grim view of God. She often said, "God will punish you if you… so I thought that might be something important to avoid.
I learned about the Divine at an early age. Told to say my simple "God bless" prayers, following, "Now I lay me down to sleep..." in my mind I prayed to a kind of big parent in the sky, for that was how I thought of God. At around five, I began attending church. My mother, a devout Catholic went every Sunday and took me with her. The benches we sat on were hard, the ones we knelt on were very hard, and the prayers were mostly in Latin. I preferred my dad's Episcopalian church, where I got to sing hymns and there were cushions to kneel on. I was able to enjoy it when on special holidays like Christmas and Easter, my mother and I attended both churches, although I believe my mother was unsure it was alright with "her" God to do so.
Once I learned to read, I used to look for books to read on the family's bookshelves. On a bottom shelf of an upstairs bookcase, I was drawn to an old Bible in the hall. I have a vivid memory of sitting on the floor under the skylight, reading the tissue thin pages and wondering at the images described in them. I found the pages fascinating; I was especially drawn to the colorful descriptions in Revelations. My father's childhood book of Biblical parables, with steel engraved illustrations was another favorite of mine. The stories were so interesting, and the large pages held my interest.
When I was seven or eight, I created my own church, just for me, in an outer corner of a small, old, greenhouse shed between the wall and the chimney. I gathered moss to kneel on, made a brick for the alter and placed a cross made of twigs upon it. I drew stained glass windows on the wooden panels of the shed wall with chalk. On the other side I made a small Cemetary where I put the animals I found to bury-a cat that had died, some ducklings, and a bird or two. When I felt the need, I would go to my church, kneel on the moss, and take my troubles to God. Somehow it seemed natural to do so.

May you enjoy happy memories of your own personal history and share them when you wish.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS I welcome comments and hope you will email me with them.

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.

08/04/2024

Stephen's new Tale

Kissing In Elevators by Stephen Halpert

It was a warm sunny August day in Boston. We were back home from our vacation in Maine and decided to celebrate our anniversary with lunch at The Top of The Hub at the Prudential Center. We enjoyed our special meal, skipped the rich pastry platter, and happily headed toward the elevator.
"I think kissing in elevators is romantic," Tasha said with a smile as she pushed the button.
I shook my head. "Something I've never considered. Usually, I'm packed in with a dozen other people and kissing in elevators is the last thing on my mind."
Tasha grinned. "It's just the two of us now," she said as the elevator doors opened.
We got on. "But the elevator could stop at any moment," I said. "Who knows who could suddenly join us? The Police Commissioner, or worse, a ranking member of the Watch and Ward Society. Our reputations could go up in smoke."
She laughed. "It's perfectly acceptable for a married couple to kiss anytime, anyplace, anywhere, but most especially in elevators."
The doors closed and we started down. "Not always!" I chuckled. "In the early 17th century Bostonians were forbidden to kiss women in public places, even their wives. I read once that after returning home from a three year voyage at sea, one John Keble kissed his wife when they were reunited at the dock and he was promptly arrested and sentenced to sit in the stocks for two hours for what was described as 'lewd and unseemly behavior.'"
Tasha laughed. "F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in The Crack Up that the kiss actually originated when a male reptile licked a female, implying no doubt in a very complimentary manner that she was as delicious as the small reptile he had had for dinner the night before."
"Cynical!" I laughed. The elevator stopped and a young couple with a baby got on.
"But more to the point," she said, "I read once that kissing originated when ancient peoples believed that the air from their mouths had magical powers and as two kissed, their souls mingled."
"Sounds like a highly spiritual act," I smiled. "Makes me wonder why more people don't kiss in church?"
She grinned. "That might prompt greater attendance."
"Talk about cynical, John Updike described kissing as putting one's mouth against an ATM machine where it swallows one's credit card? Not much magic there!"
The doors opened and a frowning businessman stomped in.
"Stephen King once wrote something even worse: 'kissing her lips was like kissing warm but uncooked liver.'" She grimaced. "Not romantic!"
I grinned. "Or how about that old Hebrew proverb, when a rogue kisses you, count your teeth."
She looked at me quizzically. "Did your grandmother tell you that one? Can you come up with something a little more romantic?"
"Okay, Henry James described kissing as being like 'white lightning, a flash that spread and spread again, and stayed.'"
"Much nicer," she smiled. "Leave it to the 19th century novelists to keep romance alive." The couple got off and the businessman began mumbling to himself.
"Safer back then," I grinned. "Fewer life-threatening communicable diseases, plus there weren't TV commercials making people feel self-conscious about their breath or the color of their teeth."
The elevator stopped; a plump older lady with frizzy hair joined us, exiting two floors lower, leaving behind a cloying scent of perfume. I wrinkled my nose. "Who'd ever want to kiss someone who smelled like that?"
"Better than reeking of ci******es," Tasha said. "Hollywood to the contrary, I could never understand how anyone could feel romantic kissing a smoker."
"Unless he or she smoked themselves," I said. "Smokers don't seem to mind how they smell." The businessman looked at us oddly, grimaced and exited.
"Alone at last," Tasha sighed. "If you’d rather stand here and make small talk instead of kissing me, I guess there's nothing I can do about it." The elevator stopped in the lobby. The doors opened.
I smiled. "Are you insinuating I don't appreciate the finer things in life, like kissing?" Before she could respond I pushed my finger against the "close door" button. The door slid shut and I put my arms around her. "After all," I started to say but she stopped me with a kiss.
We embraced and kissed like two love struck kids out on a wild date. The elevator door kept trying to open but I kept my finger on the "close" button as I held her against me. "Doesn't it say in the Bible to greet one another with a holy kiss?"
"Holy or not," Tasha smiled. "I hope you go right on kissing me. I can't think of any better way to stay happy and feel young. The poet e.e. cummings once wrote, "kisses are a better fate than wisdom."
Finally, I took my finger off the button and the door opened. Laughing and holding hands, we walked out into the sunshine filled lobby. "Can you believe it's been forty-seven years today since we first met?"
"No," she said. "Feels like it was only last week."
"All that meditation and living in the present keeps you young." I grinned. "Not to change the subject abruptly, but how about some gluten free crepes for dessert?"
She reached into her purse and put on her sunglasses. "I remember how when we first got together, we'd go out at three AM for pancakes."
I laughed and looked around at the busy street. "True, and now we're fast asleep at 3 AM." I sighed.
She reached for my hand. "Gotta change with the times, Dear Heart."
"Well, regardless," I said, "there's always something special about pancakes."
She smiled back and we held hands as we made our way down Boylston Street.

A graduate of Emerson College, Stephen Halpert has been a published author since the 1970s. Most recently, his weekly column “American Scene,” which ran in The Grafton News from 1989 to 2022, featured humorous vignettes of his life with his wife, Tasha, and serial fiction. In 2018, Halpert published his first collection of fictional tales, Abracadabra Moonshine and Other Stories, available on Amazon. His next writing venture is titled “Mona Lisa's Eyebrows and other stories.” Contact Stephen at [email protected] to learn more.

07/28/2024

Enjoy my latest Love Note.

Heartwings Love Notes 2046: Being Kind to Mother Earth

Heartwings says, "Being sure to take care with resources becomes more vital to the earth all the time."

If I leave the water running when I brush my teeth, I won't need to turn the faucet on and off, yet that wastes water. If I take the car somewhere unnecessary, let it idle instead of shutting it off, or speed, I waste fuel. Many of the shortcuts we practice in order to save time end up being bad for the planet.
Many towns are banning the use of throwaway plastic bags. They are easily replaced with reusable cloth or disintegrating paper. I try to remember to take my cloth bags from the car. When did we become accustomed to always drinking from plastic straws? The ocean now is polluted with them! What ever happened to paper ones? I save and reuse any I receive in restaurants.
I was raised in a thrifty household. Clothing was passed on or handed down. My mother had a friend with twins a year older than I was. You guessed it, I got two of everything they outgrew! No food was ever wasted: leftovers from a roast went into a casserole, vegetable scraps were boiled for soup as were chicken bones. Mattresses were turned again and again and discarded clothing became rags.
Today these practices are becoming practically routine as thrift becomes a way to conserve the resources of the planet rather than the individual. The cycle has come around and what was once considered "old fashioned" is the current trend. It's like fashion: If you wait long enough everything, or almost everything, that has gone out of fashion returns again as a new trend. I must say I hope big shoulder pads never do.
Individuals who take care with the planet's resources, (of which water is one) can make a difference. Daily acts no matter how seemingly small and insignificant, can accumulate. There is a true story to the effect that when the majority of monkeys isolated on an island began washing their food that the practice spread to other islands, communicated somehow through a sense of consciousness. It is said that when enough people act in certain ways that it can influence the actions of others even without their seeing or hearing of it
It is not difficult to help out. When I used to go for walks, which sadly I have had to curtail due to the disability brought on by Parkinson's, I would also help by picking up trash. Repurposing what may otherwise be thrown away is another way to be kind to the environment. The internet is a good source for ideas for this together with how to accomplish it. All forms of recycling are helpful to our planet. I would not be surprised if in time to come we don't mine our landfills for the durable materials once discarded, now to be found and recycled from there.

May you discover good ways to contribute your energy to help Mother Earth,

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS If you have comments, questions, or ideas, do please write and tell me what they may be. I love to hear from 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.

07/28/2024

Here's a good one by Stephen to make you chuckle.

A Visit to the Dentist by Stephen Halpert

As Harry perused a current issue of Dental News, Bessie looked around the dentist's office. She felt miffed. Why they had to be so early for their appointments was beyond her. But that was Harry's way. Knowing him, he'd be early for his own funeral.
She frowned. She didn't especially care for the paintings of swollen gums and unhealthy teeth that occupied the walls of the otherwise drab waiting room. Why Dr. Silkway didn't have bright cheerful paintings of flowers or other restful scenes was beyond her. She'd always thought pictures of teeth per se looked unfriendly and barbaric.
"I don't know why we always have to be to the dentist a half hour early," Bessie said. "The chairs in here are uncomfortable and the magazines are dull and out of date. Why doesn't he at least get new magazines?"
Harry smiled and patted Bessie's leg.
She laughed. "Maybe you have a thing for his hygienist."
Harry set aside the magazine and cleared his throat. "Please," he said. "Being early is a wise move in today's fast paced world. Supposing there's a fire and the street's roped off and we have to drive around forever looking for a place to park. This way we'll have a parking space. And even worse, supposing he's having a bad day and the patient before us starts screaming. Then we'll know to get out of here and reschedule our appointments."
She frowned. "That's ridiculous, Dr Silkway has a fine reputation. For as long as I've known him, he's never pulled the wrong tooth. So, because you have a thing about always being early for anything by the time we leave here and I get to the butcher's the brisket might be all sold out."
"Please Bessie, it's just the way I am. You know what they always say about the early bird getting the best worm."
"We're not birds, Harry. We're people, and as far as I know civilized people don't eat worms so that argument doesn't hold."
Now Harry looked miffed. He consulted his watch. "What's the big deal? With any luck I'll see him in ten minutes and then it'll will be your turn."
"And I have to sit here and wait. I could have gotten my brisket, dropped off my shoes at the cobblers. But oh no, we always have to be early. And it's always the same. Whenever we go to a movie, we're so early we have to sit through the ads for things we'll never want and previews for movies neither of us will wish to see. I feel stupid Harry, sitting there like an indigent. People who see us could well think that we can't afford to pay our heating bill so we sit at the movies to stay warm."
He smiled and patted her hand. "You know something. Come to think of it I'm tired of brisket. Maybe you could get fish instead.
"Fish! In the middle of the week? Next, you'll want lobster or crab meat. At least brisket is healthy. You never know about fish anymore."
He knew not to argue with her, but he couldn't help himself. "At the movies we can enjoy special treats."
"Oh yeah, like what?" Her chair was terribly uncomfortable and the heat in the waiting room felt oppressive.
He smiled, "Candy, and popcorn! They have the new flavors, chocolate chip or hot and spicy! And when we're early we can munch."
"Do you have any idea the chemicals they put in that stuff, not to mention the potential for cavities" Her face brightened with another thought. "I'll bet the butter comes from China, and who knows what else might? I'd like to avoid Chinese butter, thank you.”
Harry sighed. "Please Bessie, we're old enough to appreciate some junk food now and again."
Another patient came in, took off his coat, sat down across from Bessie.
"Harry, I want us to last. Our time belongs to us and shouldn't be compromised by fake food."
Harry shook his head. "And Bessie, I wouldn't worry too much about cavities. At our age the teeth we'll probably end up with will outlast the rest of us."
"And another thing," she said, still ignoring whatever he was trying to say. "Whenever we go out to eat, we're always so early we have to wait until the kitchen is open."
"You like fresh food, don't you?"
"That has nothing to do with it."
"It certainly does. You're just upset because your chair's uncomfortable. Here read this article about implants in Dental News. We might want to think about them."
"Then why bother coming for cleanings if we're going to get whatever's left pulled."
"I see your point," Harry sighed. He smiled as the hefty blond hygienist put down her phone, jotted something, and came over to Harry and Bessie.
"Oh Mr. and Mrs. Silver how fortunate you're being here early. Dr. Silkway just got a call from a patient who lost several fillings when she chewed on chocolate covered nuts last night at the movies. It's an emergency and she's on her way over. I hope you don't mind if we slip her in before you."
She gave Harry her best, most coquettish smile. He blushed, and Bessie thought he looked like a child in the seventh grade being flirted with for the first time.
"Of course," he said politely." I don't mind waiting a little longer."
Bessie wrinkled her nose. At first, she wanted to kick him, but then she thought again. "Just give me the car keys, Harry and I'll run over to the butcher's and pick up my brisket. You better stay here and wait."
"You're sure," he said earnestly. "I wouldn't want you to lose your place in line."
"No problem," Bessie said. "You stay here and sit on your uncomfortable chair and I'll go get my brisket." With a happy smile she stood up and marched out the door.

A graduate of Emerson College, Stephen Halpert has been a published author since the 1970s. Most recently, his weekly column “American Scene,” which ran in The Grafton News from 1989 to 2022, featured humorous vignettes of his life with his wife, Tasha, and serial fiction. In 2018, Halpert published his first collection of fictional tales, Abracadabra Moonshine and Other Stories, available on Amazon. His next writing venture is titled “Mona Lisa's Eyebrows and other stories.” Contact Stephen to learn more.

07/21/2024

Here's an interesting summer dessert.
Heartwings Love Notes 2045 Kitchens Then and Now

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.

Tasha and Steven Halpert

08/12/2024

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