A little nutty

Gosh, it must have been around 1987 when my mother was in her Pecans de Resistance phase. She is a very creative woman and a fantabulous cook. While I cannot imagine what gave her the idea to flavor and toast pecans and sell them to her friends, she did and they bought them, and they were wonderful.

So I had this bag of pecans in my freezer, just sitting there, minding their own business, oblivious to the notion that they were about to be mixed with luxurious butter, brown sugar and cinnamon and take a ride under the broiler until their toasty goodness reached its peak.

Cooking is kind of like writing; I never really know when a memory is going to come up, or something jump to the forefront of my mind and make me decide to go to the kitchen and create. I don’t know why I decided to make this decadent snack on this particular afternoon. Perhaps it was because my grown-up Christmas tree had dredged up more nostalgia than I would like to admit. Perhaps I was just bored and when I’m bored, I cook.

This is not great for the waistline, mind you.

Whatever the reason, the pecans were delicious and they were fun to make. I would share the recipe with you, but I have no idea what I did, and in what proportions. It’s a problem of mine. One that Lynn has chided me over more times than I can count. When I’m in a creative mode, sometimes I just throw and taste, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. This time it did.

I realize there are many, many versions of this recipe floating out there, and most of them better than mine. But sometimes, the one you come up with yourself is just the perfect one, especially when it brings up sweet memories.

I wish you all sweet memories tonight.

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