Topic: "Buttermilk Drops" (3)
Sunday mornings will always be special in the City of Orleans. Sunday Brunch at Commander's Palace was the ultimate pig-out when guests would visit Frodo and Sam. Any meal that would begin with Eggs Sardou and end with Milk Punch could only be the precursor of a complete systemic douche by days' end. Holidays which happened, by consequence or plan, to fall on a Sunday were especially adventurous in finery, and one found ample reason to ride up and down St. Charles simply to gawk. Regular Sundays, clear of guests and special occasions however, were the ones that meant the most to Frodo and Sam.
Frodo would rise early, leash Prissy (first of the canine contingent), and head out for McKenzie's Bakery. Stopping by the box which held the Sunday edition of "The New Orleans Times-Picayune," Frodo would shovel in quarters, remove his paper, tie Prissy to the rack, and then enter McKenzies Bakery (aka "The Doorway to Heaven").
Frodo does not remember how or what drew him to the round pellets, about the size of a golf ball, which somewhat reminded him of donut holes, if you will. They were glazed, of course, and as Frodo discovered, a yellow cake-like concoction which guaranteed that no human or halfling could eat just one. Generally, Frodo would get a dozen, hot from the oven, thinking that at least a half-dozen would survive to be placed in the freezer.
Prissy sat, all the while, with her eyes transfixed on Frodo. Although she knew that she could not partake in this treat, she knew well that a suitable substitute would greet her arrival at the semi-Shire. She pranced the entire way home.
Citizens of Middle Earth, from all walks of life, found reason to visit Sam and Frodo in Orleans. Invariably, they were introduced to buttermilk drops during their stay, and so the fame of this culinary masterpiece spread from Farthing to Rohan. It was a sad day indeed, for all, when Frodo and Sam departed the City of Orleans and left McKenzie's behind.
Some years later, when Frodo and Sam returned to visit, many McKenzie's shops had closed, and one of the few that could be found had only a limited supply of buttermilk drops, and they were a day old. Frodo and Sam took all they had. Toasted for a few seconds in a microwave, they were as sweet as dew dripping from the leaf of a magnolia.
Frodo now believes that acquisitions, and nature, have brought an end to McKenzie's Bakeries, and hence, to buttermilk drops. Duplicated, perhaps, but never quite the same.
For a little cafe' au lait, and a buttermilk drop, Frodo would consider this to be the perfect Easter. Some things are a part of good memories, and that is what Frodo tries hard to accept.