A Food Nostalgia Moment
I visited my parents in Niagara over the weekend and went on a bike ride on the beautiful Niagara Cycling trail past orchards, vineyards and salt-box historic homes. In Queeston, there's a little cafe owned by Steve Bauer (yes! the Olympic cyclist) by the trail. After riding for 45 minutes in the 32C and 70% humidity that's typical for the area, I was happy to have an excuse to stop and rest. I went in and laid eyes on homemade butter tarts, my absolute fave Friday night treat when I was a kid. They had all three kinds of butter tarts--plain (runny), with raisins, and with pecans--to satisfy all schools of butter tart purists, as I read once to my surprise in Harrowsmith magazine. (I'm from the runny camp, myself.)

Well. That butter tart was amazing. Incredibly sweet, slightly tart, with buttery, crumbly pastry, it brought me right back to my Grama's place, when we'd sit on the back steps, listening to the buzzing of insects and watching the fiery-red sun set.

Funny how food can make you relive certain moments and memories. I just love moments like that.