I've been walking down Memory Lane Française recently with some of the new websites and blogs I've discovered about France: life, food, traditions. They have caused me to remember things that I truly had forgotten about from my childhood and I'm so grateful to be recollecting. Today's revived experience was Pain d'Epice. When I read that term, I had the mental knowledge that it meant Spice Bread, and I had a vague emotional knowledge that it was familiar, but I just couldn't place it or bring the memory of the taste forward. Don't you just wish sometimes that you could bottle fragrances and tastes and pull them out when you just want a little mental nudge? I kept reading and gradually, I was full on board! The violins were playing and the trumpets were blaring! I remembered! I remember Mom buying it in loaves that looked a little like my mother-in-law's Pumpkin Bread and wrapped in cellophane. Regina's Pumpkin Bread is more moist as I recall, and of course, the taste is quite different. No pumpkin in Pain d'Epice and it actually is a honey-spice bread, I think. I've been unsuccessful in finding a recipe today, but I did find a couple of suggestions on where to look so my search will continue!
This is what Ken did for me today: hung up my new Fleur-de-lis towel rod that I bought at Queen Bee in Snohomish. I love it—sure beats the standard chrome ones. Now I've set a standard and I guess the others will have to be changed out throughout the house. . . all in good time. That's what I like about keeping a home: it's all a process. This rod goes with the other décor in there:
Woke up to this today! Actually we knew it was there because Emily had run into it on her way home last night, which caused me many worries! She was safe, though, and drove quite well, choosing her route carefully so as to avoid hills and curves! More fell throughout the night though and I was very happy to see "School closed due to snow" on my computer screen at 6:20 AM. Ben was glad, too, but bummed that he had already gotten up and showered! We all went back to bed and slept soundly for a while longer. Poor, cold mailman, though, is still delivering mail. I hope his wife has a nice cup of hot coffee waiting for him when he gets home. Oh wait, my mailman is a woman, I think. She'll probably have to make her own.