Last night I dreamed of hazelnuts. Scuffling through the toothed leaves with my feet, turning over the litter, in search of the tiny clusters. I remembered the competition with the squirrels, the feeling that they always somehow got the best part of those delicious treats. I sat and peeled the papery husk from the hard shells and pocketed every one I found. In my dream I took a bounty of hazelnuts inside to my grandfather, and we cracked them as we always had, then roasted them with butter, honey and sugared spices. I stood in front of the oven once more, bouncing from foot to foot in eager anticipation. The timer on the stove ticked away for what seemed an eternity, and the smell of those sugared goodies toasting up made my mouth water.
Sadly, in the way of most dreams, it moved on to something else before I got to taste them. But I woke up feeling sad and happy at the same time. My grandfather passed when I was still a little girl, and so many of his recipes went with him. Recipes for things that bring back so many wonderful memories. Moral of the story, enjoy the good times and write that recipe for your famous banana bread down, because you never know when someone may recall and wish to taste it one more time. Missing you, Grandpa.
Come one power, don't fail me now! Happy Decem--BURRRR! We're about to get our first snowstorm of the year.