Sweets from the Past

   I took an inadvertent walk down memory lane a few weeks ago. I was rummaging around in my collection of cookbooks when I found one from an Italian restaurant. It was old and obviously unused. I knew the restaurant. It was the one my grandmother worked at when I stayed with her.
  There were a group of eight women or so that cooked once a week at the restaurant. They were either Italian immigrants or the children of immigrants. The restaurant was only open in the evenings for dinner. The women cooked in the morning and afternoon. Sometimes I sat on a stool and watched. Sometimes I helped. Sometimes I played with my dolls on the floor of the dining room.
  I paged through the book to see why I had it. There on page 35 was my answer. There was a recipe for scatzel, an Italian Easter cheese cake. It was one of my favourite things. It has raisins in it, the only time you will catch me voluntarily eating raisins in a baked item.My grandma used to make it for me. When I was in college she would make it and send it to me. I remember sharing a little of it and hoarding the rest. The last care package grandma sent me at college was three bottles of sausage and a loaf of scatzel. She died a few weeks after the package arrived.
  For some reason, I never learned how to make my favourite treat from her. I'm not sure why. My mother must have told me there was a recipe in the cookbook, so I bought it.
  Strangely enough, I've never made it myself.  I'm guessing it's because I'm scared. If it doesn't taste as good as the ones I remember my grandmother making I'll be disappointed. On the other hand. I should at least try, even if it doesn't turn out exactly like I remember, it could still be good. It doesn't look that hard to make. I'll just need mozzarella cheese, eggs and raisins.
  While I was on this little trip down the dessert aisle of memory lane another sweet treat popped up, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting. Grandma always had some kind of cake around the house as there were visitors every day. Relatives and friends would often stop by to visit and have a cup of coffee and something to eat. If it was near mealtime, they would join us for dinner. In between meals, there would be cake or some other baked or fried thing.
  The last time I saw a chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting was a couple years ago in South Carolina. We'd been invited to a Mother's Day picnic. The cake was one of several dessert choices. It appears to be more popular in the south than up here. I'll have to try and make that as well.
   My trip down memory lane came to an abrupt end as Scamp jumped on the kitchen counter. I put the Italian cookbook away, picked him up and left the kitchen. It was a nice trip.