Small Town Living

I got my mom's tiny nail scissors, dulled by years of 'schnibbling' away at my furry companions, sharpened at the farmers market, finally. Told the guy too that he had pissed me off when he payed too much attention to his apprentice and none to me, not once, but trice about 3 years ago! He apologized and I shared some of my freshly gathered apricots with him before we parted with smiles.

Apricots are in season and are dropping off trees on to public streets where it is legal to gather them. So far I collected three big bowls full, but darn it takes a lot to fill one jar with compote.  I still lack enough for freezing, much less to pass on to the nearby shelter. I have had apricots for breakfast, lunch and dinner, almost, everyday of late. In Switzerland we eat big platters of fruit pie on meatless Fridays. Here is how I make my kind of Aprikosen Waehe:  

I cup of organic spelt flour, maybe half and half with organic whole wheat flour enhanced with some sesame seed and wheat germ. 

Mix to a dough with a bit of water, braggs and sesame oil (careful of too much kneading.) 

Press in to a pie form, oiled also with a bit of sesame oil, so much better tasting then olive oil and a lot healthier then butter. 

Cover with almond pieces or more traditional hazelnut meal.

Place in heated (toaster-) oven for about 10 minutes.

Decorate pie with halved apricots, squeezing in as many as possible.

Place back in to oven for another 10 minutes.

Pour one egg sweetened maybe with sugar, or tangerine juice, added lemon juice, maybe vanilla and/or cinnamon, including a tablespoon full of yogurt or rice milk - or not.

Place back in to oven for another 10 minutes.

Voila, Aprikosen Waehe ready to eat in an easy half hour!

I love living in a small town where the fruit falls down on streets, ripe for the picking, where the conductor will wave at us from a passing train and where the security guy will stop to check in on how things are and will share the latest news, some relevant to the 'hood, but some more personal. I have not yet dared to ask about Sam's teeth, he had them before, but no more.