by Charles P. Ries
I was thinking, about running with my cousins -
celebrating everything under the sun with family.
Thinking about dessert. My aunts each had one.
A signature creation of culinary achievement, that
made them famous - in my mind. I would have
loved them just as much without these masterpieces,
but with them, they became beacons of sweet love.
All were equal in my mind until the day I met
Aunt Nora’s Poppy Seed Torte.
I was 4 years old the first time I spotted that tasty little Torte.
Just tall enough to see above the table top. It sat amidst a
crowd of other good looking sweets - bars, cookies, cakes
and ice cream. It seemed to jump off the table and into my
mouth. It whispered to me in the language of pure sugar -
I heard every word.
Over the years I have eaten more than my share of that torte,
but I guess that’s what love does to you - you just can’t get
enough of it; I don’t care if it’s a person or a dessert.
I was thinking, how simple love is - “Sweet, custard filled and
loaded with poppy seeds.”
Here is the recipe for Nora's