This wasn’t my kitchen, I didn’t know where the fire extinguisher was!Īnd just as that panicked thought entered my head the landlord kicked down the door that separated the first floor from his upstairs apartment. The juice from the cobbler had bubbled over the edges, pooling on the bottom of the oven and catching on fire. I slammed the door shut and stood there, paralyzed. I dashed over to the oven and opened the door, jumping back with a yelp as flames came shooting out. I was the only one there aside from the landlord who lived upstairs.
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What was that? An alarm? I cracked open the door of his room…and was met with an enormous cloud of thick, white smoke. Then about 15 minutes into the baking time, I heard something. Let me tell you, I was looking forward to unveiling that cobbler when he got back – all syrupy and golden and delicious. In the meantime, I went back to studying in his room. Then I slid the cobbler into the oven and he walked to the market for ice cream. I sliced the apples, added cinnamon sugar, made the biscuit topping, then assembled it all in a pie dish. Plus, I really liked him and wanted to impress him with my culinary prowess! So I decided to make an apple cobbler. I still lived in the college dorms and access to a kitchen was a luxury. At the time he lived on the first floor of a house, which meant he had a full-sized kitchen. My husband and I met in college and one autumn evening – just a few weeks after we started dating – he invited me over to study together. The Recipe that Kindled the Flames of Love
No, it was because I almost set his house on fire. More than 20 years ago, this is the recipe that made my future husband decide that I was “the one.” It wasn’t just about the food – although it didn’t hurt that this was the best apple cobbler he’d ever tasted. The Recipe that Kindled the Flames of Love.