I remember a Thanksgiving in the blue mountains of the Cumberland Rim, the air spiced with roasting turkey, sauteed onions, browning rolls. Visitors came and went, catching up on stories. One of my mother's friend dropped off a homemade chocolate pie, then left in a flurry of hugs and good wishes. Later, when we tried to cut a slice, the rich filling oozed, pooling in the bottom of the pan. We just we dipped it out like pudding, and everybody said it was the best chocolate dessert ever, the perfect ending to our meal. Continue Reading »