The last apple fritter I ate before going gluten-free was an abomination. I bought it at a cute bakery. It looked a little smoother than a traditional apple fritter but I didn't think much about it one way or the other. Then I bit into the fritter and--What the hell?--apple pie filling burst into my mouth. . . .
Joan Rivers died yesterday and I baked a blueberry pie. My mom loved Joan Rivers. LOVED HER. She found Joan's razor-sharp comedy delightfully prickly. Like Joan, my mother lost her husband at a young age. And like Joan, my mother was the mother to one child, a daughter.