My week was wrapping up so nicely. My two-week stretch of being on call was coming to a rapid end. I was planning a celebratory dinner at my home for my team of hardworking students, residents, and fellows. I was the subject of a lovely interview on the kitchen generation, a beautiful blog written by a group of five über-talented young bloggers. It was announced that my recipes, along with those of several bloggers whose work I admire, were to be included on Gojee, a recipe sourcing site for the photographically-inclined. And finally, I held in my hands the print copy of my homage to Southern food, published in the Florida Times-Union newspaper.

It was turning out to be a pretty great week.

And then I got a text from my mom on Thursday morning, shortly after starting my hospital rounds.

“I’m calling 911 now,” read her text.

My dad had fallen backwards in his recliner the day before and bumped his head on the hard tile floor in my parents’ living room. The bump on the head might have been no big deal, but he was on Coumadin, a blood thinner. Shortly after the fall, he developed a severe headache, one that wouldn’t go away despite the multiple Tylenol tablets he took for it. The nausea and vomiting started soon after. He became confused. Then he wound up in an ambulance, and next, the emergency room at my hospital. A CT scan of his brain and blood work followed. The diagnosis was a subdural hematoma, bleeding on the brain. And this diagnosis bought him a stay in the neurosurgical intensive care unit.

Things are looking up, though. He was transferred to a regular floor room on Sunday. The word from the physical therapist is that he’ll go to a rehabilitation center after his discharge from the hospital, something that my mom and I think he desperately needs. My children visited him yesterday, and though they hesitated slightly when they saw the various tubes and electrical leads adorning his weakened body, they gave him big bear hugs around the neck.

And I made a pie.

I’ve been waking up with pie on my mind, and I really, really needed to bake something. I made an all-butter pie crust dough last weekend, maybe because I knew I’d have Sunday morning to put it to good use. As I rolled the buttery dough into a flat circle, I thought about my dad and how his life – and my mom’s life – might be different after this past week. I was getting angry and frustrated, and I think the pie dough felt it. It fought my efforts, tearing around the edges, not behaving as I wanted it to. I gathered the torn pieces, balled them up, and decided to roll the pastry dough out again rather than start over.

As someone special told me yesterday on Facebook, “Relax. That’s why it’s not working. Pie crust senses your fear.”

I cleared my mind, relaxed, and rolled it out again, slowly and methodically. It worked beautifully.

Sand pears? Pineapple pears? I just call them backyard pears.

The filling was a combination of some Gala apples we had in the refrigerator and some of the green and brown speckled pears you see above. A friend of my husband gave us a huge bag of these pears. I thought a pie would be a wonderful way to honor that lovely fruit.

We’re starting our week with this apple and pear pie. I’m starting the week with a more clear mind. I think I’m ready for what these next days have in store.

I can do this.

Yield: 8 servings.

Cook Time: 1 hour

Apple and Pear Pie

I used pears common to the north Florida region. I think of them as backyard pears, since I grew up with this type of pear tree in our backyard. You can use Bartlett or Bosc or any other type available in your local market.

Ingredients:

1 pound apples (such as Gala, Pink Lady, or Granny Smith), peeled, cored, and chopped into 1/4-inch pieces
1 pound pears, peeled, cored, and chopped into 1/4-inch pieces
3/4 cup light brown sugar
2 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
Double 9-inch pie crust, ready-made or made from scratch

Directions:

1. Adjust an oven rack to lowest position and place a rimmed baking sheet on the rack. Preheat oven to 500 degrees.

2. In a large bowl, gently toss the apples and pears with the sugar, tapioca, lemon juice and zest, spices, and salt. Set aside for 15-30 minutes.

3. Roll out the bottom crust of the pie dough into a 12-inch circle and carefully fit into the bottom of a 9-inch pie plate. Spread the apples and pears in the bottom of the unbaked pie crust in the pie plate. Roll the top crust into a 12-inch circle and place carefully over the pie plate, centered over the filling. Seal and crimp the edges of the pie crust and cut four vents into the top of the crust.

4. Place the pie on the heated baking sheet and lower the oven temperature to 425 degrees. Bake for 25 minutes, then decrease oven temperature to 375 degrees. Continue to bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until crust is golden brown and juices of the fruit are bubbling. Transfer to a wire rack and cool to room temperature.

The baking method - starting the pie at 500 degrees, and reducing the temperature through the baking process - comes from the Classic Apple Pie recipe in The America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.

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I have started this paragraph at least ten times, and I have deleted it each time. I have written, and then deleted, countless Facebook status updates and Twitter posts since the beginning of this month. I have writer’s block, and when I do finally write something, the editor inside me is not happy with what I have to say.

My mind is preoccupied with work. I’m right in the middle of a two-week stretch of hospital call, one that won’t end until September 16th. No days off. Long hours. Tired feet.

Though it may sound like it, I really am not complaining. I love what I do – every aspect of it. My job is not just a job. It is a significant part of me, of who I am deep down inside. Being an oncologist is tied in with my identity as a person, just the way that being a wife or a mother is.

But the words that I find myself writing over the past week are not cutting it. My sentences sound stuffy or contrived or false. Like I’m trying too hard.

Every day in the hospital I’m encountering sadness and suffering, mingled with anxiety and fear and helplessness. There is hope, too, but of varying degrees. Because I become emotionally invested in my patients’ outcomes, I feel all of these things, too, at some level, throughout the course of each day.

Which means that whatever I try writing here just sounds trivial and stupid.

If it’s quiet here over the next week, I’m sure you’ll understand.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

I made these decadent chocolate chip cookies on Saturday evening when I got home from work, as part of my own personal therapy. The cookies were for my family, and they were a hit. The baking process was for me, and it helped. It always does.

Yield: approx 2 dozen cookies

Chocolatey Chocolate Chip Cookies

This is adapted from a recipe for Chocolate Chubbies from Sarabeth Levine's book, Sarabeth's Bakery: From My Hands to Yours. I didn't make very many changes - just added some malted milk powder and omitted the nuts. If you like this recipe, you should totally buy her book. It's incredible.

These cookies can be made in advance and stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days.

Ingredients:

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
9 ounces of semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
3 ounces unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped
1/2 cup (2.5 ounces) all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons malted milk powder
3 large eggs, room temperature
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips

Directions:

1. Position oven racks in the center and top third of the oven; preheat to 350 degrees. Line two half-sheet pans with parchment paper.

2. Melt chocolate using a double boiler: Bring 1 inch of water to a simmer in a medium saucepan over low heat. Put butter in a wide heatproof bowl or double boiler insert, and melt the butter over the hot water in the saucepan. Add the chopped semisweet and unsweetened chocolate, and stir often until melted and smooth. Remove the bowl from the heat and let stand, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes.

3. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, kosher salt, and malted milk powder.

4. In the bowl of a stand mixer, whip the eggs using the whisk attachment on medium-high speed until the eggs are foamy and slightly thickened, about 30 seconds. Increase the speed to high and gradually add the sugar and then the vanilla. Whip until eggs are thick and pale yellow, about 3 minutes. Reduce mixer speed to medium and beat in the chocolate, mixing until it is completely incorporated. Change to the paddle attachment and reduce mixer to low speed. Gradually add in the flour mixture. Remove bowl from mixer and, using a wooden spoon, stir in the chocolate chips, making sure to evenly distribute them.

5. Using a 2-inch diameter ice cream scoop, portion the batter onto the half-sheet pans, placing the cookies about 1 1/2 inches apart. Bake, switching the pans of the position from top to bottom and front to back, about halfway through baking, until the edges of the cookies are set, 17-20 minutes. Do not overbake. Cool completely on baking pans.

Thanks to Sarabeth Levine for giving me permission to reprint this adapted recipe here.

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While I was in New Orleans last weekend, I wandered down Royal Street one afternoon, camera in hand. I happened to look to my right when I came to Toulouse Street. I saw a black sign that caught my eye. I turned my head away and kept walking. But then I hesitated, and stopped. I turned around and went back. I’m glad I did.

This is what I found.

Kitchen Witch

631 Toulouse Street, New Orleans, Louisiana