The calendar need only read December 1st and visions of orange zest, nutmeg, cloves and spice start swirling in my head. How quickly I break up with pumpkin pie and move on to the warm, intoxicating smells of the winter holidays.
December is a month that I spend in my kitchen trying to recreate the traditions that made my childhood holidays so special. My Hungarian Grandma Foris would arrive at our house for Christmas with tins of Kiflis (Kee-Flees), nut roll and poppy seed roll. My Grandpa Brandeberry would spend weeks making candy to give as gifts. I can still see the white boxes with red bows piled high on top of his washer and dryer in the back room. If I came to his house on the right day, he would let me sit at his kitchen table and squish mounds of caramel between pecans while he dipped them in chocolate.
I like to think that my love of baking comes from a long line of proud cooks. I usually wear my Grandma’s apron and think about what life in the kitchen was like for her and her mother when they were in Hungary. I think about my Grandfather and how, like me, he loved to give away what he made and how happy people were to receive the special candy crafted by hand just for them. My hope is that my boys will remember our time in the kitchen together, and carry forward a love of baking, and even more important, a love of giving.
A result of some of our time together in the kitchen was this pie. A mash up of all the holiday nostalgia as a precursor to the New Year. Choose your adventure on the topping – though I will admit that a lattice crust really makes this pretty if you are willing to put the work in. 🙂