Today, I thought I would share one of my happy moments. I am taking my first creative non-fiction class. Creative non-fiction is my favourite genre to read and as it turns out my favourite to write as well. I was particularly excited when I saw for my first assignment one of the topics I could write about was food. I had to write about my earliest memory of eating food that I really enjoyed and savoured so I wrote about a meal with my granny.
I was very nervous sending in my first piece, not sure how the marker would respond. I found it difficult to write about a subject so close to me, since I can recollect it all perfectly in my head I was hoping that what I had on paper would enable the reader to imagine it and experience a little of what I experienced. As I opened the response email, like Ralphie in A Christmas Story I was hoping for an A+++, but a little scared to see a "REWRITE" instead. Lucky for me when I scrolled to the bottom to see my mark there wasn't a "REWRITE" glaring at me in red but a lovely little black A+. I am so excited and very challenged because now I want to keep that little A+ for my transcript.
Today I will be working hard at assignment three (assignment two has already been sent in and I am ever so patiently awaiting my grade...)
For fun, I thought I would share my little story on my blog. Enjoy.
As a child I spent my summer holidays with my granny. After a morning in the garden picking raspberries, strawberries and tomatoes we headed back to the kitchen where we started prepping dessert. Two pots were placed on the stove, one half-filled with raspberries and the other with strawberries; each received a sprinkling of sugar and tapioca. When the berries began to simmer, bread was placed in the toaster to begin our lunch. Each piece of toast was spread with butter and a generous swipe of mayonnaise and Granny would very thickly slice the sun warmed tomatoes and place them on the prepared toast. Salt and pepper would be sprinkled over the glistening slices of tomato and then covered by a second slice of toast. While granny prepared a cup of tea, I took the first warm bite with a slight crunch through the toast layers and then sunk into the fresh tomato. The aroma of simmering berries accompanied the flavour of the sandwich adding an additional sweetness to each bite.
After we finished our sandwiches, we moved on to dessert. Granny took the now thickened berries off the heat to cool while we mixed together the cream heavy, pastry like dough of the Russian pyrahi that we rolled into rounds and filled with aromatic, thickened berries. Granny expertly lifted and pinched the dough into perfect little purse shapes that held the berries that would peak through the small opening on top. She shared stories of how her mother taught her to make them as a child and reminded me that one day I too would be able to create perfect little purses that would hold on to the berries tightly in the oven without them spilling over the collapsing sides as mine so often did.
As the pyrahi baked, I watched the berry filling bubbling in the centre of each little purse through the glass in the oven door. When it was finally time to remove the pyrahi, granny lifted out the trays and reminded me not to touch the still bubbling fruit that tempted my small fingers to reach out for a taste. When they were finally cool enough for granny to pick up, she placed one on each plate and reached to the back of the stove where a small pot of melted butter was waiting to be poured over the hot, fruit filled pyrahi. The first bite of rich pastry, sweet-tart berries and melted butter made me forget the long wait. Granny and I sat in silence savouring every bite.
Tomato sandwiches and fresh berry pyrahi taste of summer to me and to my children who love to watch me pinch the rounds of the cream heavy dough into perfect little purse shapes as I tell them stories of my granny and how she taught me how to make our favourite summer treat.
okay...mine aren't quite the perfect little purse shapes that I said they were but keep in mind the genre is "creative" non-fiction and so I am allowing myself a little artistic licence.
