Contributed by: Bruce Gartner, Michigan Growing up in the Detroit Michigan suburb of Dearborn, I will always remember my first experience eating “Thumb Pie.” In the late 50′s and early 60′s my father played old country music with a few of his Greyhound Bus driver buddies. One of those guys, Burgess Broyles, was a really
Jane Rosemont, New Mexico Because I grew up in Michigan, where tart cherries grew in abundance, cherry pie was a staple. Like macaroni and cheese, or toast with peanut butter, it was comfort food. Cherry pie meant “home.” Once a year in June, when my dad’s birthday rolled around, mom would pull out all the
Contributed by: Sally Charette, California My mom and I sat on the wooden bench swing in Cousin Audrey’s back yard and watched little white butterflies tip toe across the Queen Anne’s lace while Audrey fixed us a snack. I was seven or eight years old and if I’d met this elderly twice-removed relative of my dad’s
Contributed by: Melinda, Michigan When my mom was first married, she wanted to make an apple pie for my dad and went to buy the kind of ready-made dough that her mother always used. She couldn’t find it at the grocers, so she made her own from scratch with a recipe she found in a
The idea of having a blog again is almost too good to be true! I look forward to sharing the process of filming with you, and revealing stories of all sorts, soon.