Baking Comes Naturally To Me
Loretta Lori Mimi Guinan Enos Sutliff

I got married in 1962 and by 1967 had three babies, so you know I didn’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen. Anyway, once I found out what was causing the babies I took up cooking instead.
        So there I was, with three kids under the age of five, trying to become a memory-making Irish mother. I guess I succeeded because my kids, who are grown, married, and have given me grandchildren have also given me a plaque that hangs by my stove and declares to the world: Many people have eaten in this kitchen and have gone on to live perfectly normal lives.
        But back to my early experiments with baking.
        It must be said that I’ve never been known for my culinary abilities. In fact my only claim to kitchen fame was to convince my children that cakes were actually pies.
        Okay, let me explain. Everyone knows that making a pie takes a lot more time than making a cake.
        Examples:
        Pie: Pick apples, cherries, blueberries, etc. Wash them. Make crust out of—who knows what? Use flour—use rolling pin—roll out dough—fit in pie pan—add fruit—add top—pinch around the edges—etc. etc. etc!
        Cake: Buy box of mix, put in bowl, mix & pour in pan & bake. Done!
        So to impress the kids I would yell, “It takes time, but let’s make a pie!” I would get down the “box” of cake mix and ShaBoom—1/2 hour later out of the oven came a pie.

        It worked for years until one 4th of July my mom came over with a huge cake, all decorated in red, white and blue, and my 7 year old son yelled, “Wow, Look at the pie Grandma made!”
 

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