I think everyone’s family has tales they tell that become enhanced over time. After many retellings it’s hard to know what is fact and what is fiction.
I never met my mother’s father. He passed away when my mother was in high school. His name was Clarence but he always went by Bill. My grandmother had a few pictures of him on display and when I was young I would ask questions about him.
She talked about him serving during WWI. He worked on an ambulance and later on a sanitation train in France.
She told me she would bring him his lunch when he drove the B&M train to the stop near their house sometimes. He was an engineer in the early years of their marriage and the yard master towards the end.
In another story she told me that he wanted to name my mother Lorraine after the area in France where he served, Alsace Lorraine.
I don’t know how much of this is true. I know he served in WWI and he was on an ambulance and sanitation train. But the rest of the story, I’m not sure.
When Adam (who in my head is WeirdWeekends-as in “H Have you seen WeirdWeekends post today?”) posted in March about Isabelle making her cake on the weekend the Alsace Lorraine story popped back into my head. I knew I had to make it.
It is delicious! Everyone who has had a piece loves it. One thing Adam neglected to mention: the smell. It is heavenly. At first the kitchen had a yeasty smell and then as it baked the whole house had a sweet bready smell.
Adam thank you so much for sharing! I hope you’ll share more of Isabelle’s recipes.