Piper Jassem Food Writing Piece
November 2016 Humanities 7
Michelle’s Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread
On cold days during winter and fall, my mom would make me and Grace our favorite autumn snack, her special pumpkin bread. No, it wasn’t an old recipe that was passed down generation by generation, we just got it off the internet, but it is special to me and nobody can make any pumpkin bread as well as she can. Right as you step inside our apartment you could smell it. It smelled like fall and spices and warmth, and you could smell it in the hallway too. My mom would always make it for us on those few days we didn’t have gymnastics and we didn’t go to Grace’s house.
It was one of those kind of days, where Grace finally agreed to come to my house. She doesn’t really like to go to other people’s house, she just likes her own house. As we walked down the street, my mom talked on and on about her run and all the great pictures she took today. I was practically falling asleep. I stopped listening and only heard the the pit pat, pit pat of people’s feet on the sidewalk. That was the one thing I was tuned into, until she finally said something worth listening to.
“Girls! I have a special treat for you at home!” I knew what she meant and I got that feeling that rushes through your body. It’s the kind of feeling that makes you want to jump in the air. As we walked up the staircase, I could smell the pumpkin spice.
As I stepped through the door I could see the steam coming off of the bread, meeting the cold air and then in a split second it would vanish. All I wanted to do was run over to the oven and snatch it for myself. I went to go reach for it but I could feel the heat of the pan from far away. It was too hot to grab. My mom cut in front of me and flipped over the pan and the pumpkin bread fell on it’s head, it’s top getting beat up but bouncing back almost immediately. The outside was almost completely browned but as she cut into the bread I could start to see the orange peeking out. The chocolate trickled out of the spots in the bread where the chips had fallen in. She plopped it onto a plate and it felt like it was a part in one of those movies where everything turns to slow motion. I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn’t seen Grace reach for that first piece. I sliced another piece and carried it onto a plate, the chocolate smudged on my hands. The sunlight glistened in the chandelier and the rainbow light landed on my face as I went in for the first bite of warmth.
I will always have memories of this pumpkin bread and all the happiness it gives me. I almost never get it anymore but I hold it in my heart and all the memories that come with it. It’s pretty easy to find pumpkin bread in the city, or anywhere else, but none compare to hers. I am happy I’m able to share this memory and many more with her.