This all brings me back to my childhood when I stood on a kitchen chair next to my mother and watched her make pie dough. Flour, lard, and salt were placed in bowl and mixed by hand. Nothing measured. Water sprinkled over the crumbled, pea-sized dough mixture just until it held together. It was done by feel and texture. Soft dough made two perfectly round crusts.Read More
...The reason I’m standing in the dining room for a moment has a deeper origin. There is a round
table in the far corner, the perfect location for two couples to have an intimate evening and still
be part of the festivities. My husband Fred and I sat at the very table last year with beloved
friends, Merrie and Kundan, ready to embrace what the new year would bring...