My sister-in-law made the perfect cup of coffee. She didn’t roast and grind her own beans, she didn’t make sure the water was at the perfect temperature and study the drip rate to make sure she was extracting maximum flavor from each bean. That’s not who she was. She would scoff at the pretentiousness of such things and would tease me if I alluded to caring about it. Coffee is a morning drink to shake off the evils of the night before and to get your eyes open. I don’t remember her ever drinking coffee after noon. 
It was this same sister-in-law that suggested to my husband that I was probably the ONE. The story behind all of that is too messy to get into, but when we got serious she was the first family member that he wanted to introduce me to. My connection to her was instant. She immediately made me feel welcome. We first bonded over a mutual love of her brother, but found so many more things that we had in common. 
Christina loved to feed her family. It was more than just that perfect cup of coffee made from pre-ground grocery store coffee. When we were at her house for the weekend, we could expect a full breakfast influenced by her Southern roots. I can now publicly admit that my biscuits and gravy are better than hers, but since she wouldn’t let me help her cook, she would’ve had no idea. 
Sunday football meant a full buffet of fried, homemade pickles, chicken wings, and chili or soup of some kind. I am not big on frying at home, but Christina didn’t have similar concerns. She also grilled all year long. She loved having people around to cook for and never held back. She also made this amazing frozen coleslaw. She had gotten the recipe from a lady with whom she had worked. She refused to share the recipe with me. I think it was because if I could make it on my own, I wouldn’t come visit her to eat hers.
And then there was the foray into homemade goat cheese. When she married a goat farmer, she started making cheese. She quickly got bored with plain cheese and texted me for ideas about flavors. I sent her some suggestions and she branched off from there. 
When she would host a party, the food was almost as good as her company. Christina was warm and funny. When I picture her face, I see her smile. I can hear her laugh in my head. She died last week creating a gaping hole in our lives. There will be no more phone calls asking if using strategy in games is cheating. There are so many pickles left unfried, so many pork loins left unplundered, and so many perfect cups of coffee left unmade.
In honor of Christina’s memory, I present to you Country Apple Coffeecake. It seems especially symbolic of who she was. Biscuit base for her Southern roots, country flavor for her time on the farm, a bit sweet, a bit tart, boozy, and kind of nutty. It’s perfect to serve for breakfast with coffee. It’d be great with a side of bacon or even some goat cheese. I’d stay away from the pickles, though.
The first time I heard about Church Windows cookies (are they cookies or are they candy?) was after our tree fell on our neighbor’s fence. It might be the biggest event this neighborhood has seen in a while. It was such a big event that as we were cutting it down, neighbors from the senior housing facility put out their chairs, plugged in their crockpots, and sat outside to watch. I treated them to some 
No matter what the recipe says about double boiler, melt the chocolate in the microwave. It’s so much easier. Put it in for a minute, stir it after a minute, it might need another 15 or 30 seconds, but it won’t need much more. Stirring these bad boys is hard. It’s messy and involved. 
Ok, so flavor…think something like rocky road. But vaguely fruity with coconut. They aren’t bad, but probably best in small doses.
This is one of those candies that requires no heat. If you are going to use your handy Kitchen Aid, you want to use the paddle attachment until everything comes together. At that point you can switch to the bread hook to knead the candy. 
That’s what these cookies are like. Snuggling with your oldest on the couch, with a Hallmark Christmas movie on, and the tree lit. The smell of cookies in the air and the sound of your middle child reading a bedtime story to his younger sister. Just light perfection. 
