My Sister’s Superb Apple Pie

Apple-Pie And Cheese

By Eugene Field (1850-1895)

Full many a sinful notion 

Conceived of foreign powers 

Has come across the ocean 

To harm this land of ours; 

And heresies called fashions 

Have modesty effaced, 

And baleful, morbid passions 

Corrupt our native taste. 

O tempora! O mores! 

What profanations these

That seek to dim the glories 

Of apple-pie and cheese! 

…

Though ribalds may decry 'em, 
For these twin boons we stand, 
Partaking thrice per diem 
Of their fulness out of hand; 
No enervating fashion 
Shall cheat us of our right 
To gratify our passion 
With a mouthful at a bite! 
We'll cut it square or bias, 
Or any way we please, 
And faith shall justify us 
When we carve our pie and cheese

 

De gustibus, 't is stated, 
Non disputandum est. 
Which meaneth, when translated, 
That all is for the best. 
So let the foolish choose 'em 
The vapid sweets of sin, 
I will not disabuse 'em 
Of the heresy they're in; 
But I, when I undress me 
Each night, upon my knees 
Will ask the Lord to bless me 
With apple-pie and cheese!

My sister and her husband are visiting us. This morning, she baked us a marvelous apple pie, with apples she picked herself at an orchard near her home in Indiana. She also showed us this great poem by Eugene Field — who, like us, was from St.Louis. The pie also reminded me of our late and much mourned friend Charlie, who once said “apple pie without the cheese is like a hug without the squeeze.”

Here are the four of us, as seen from our drone flying above us.

Photos © 2021 mae and len sander.