Back in March, I received a call out of the blue from an older gentleman, Stan, in Nederland asking for a Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. He explained that this was his son Ross’s absolute favorite kind of pie and he wanted to surprise him with something special for his 50th birthday.

A few days after we’d delivered the pie, Stan called specifically to thank me for the pie and to tell me how much everyone, especially his son, loved it. “Thank you very very VERY much!” he said. He seemed so pleased that he was able to do this for his son.

The next time I heard from him we had a wonderful conversation about foods that he loved from his childhood in the Bronx. He asked me if I could make a Russian Apple Cake, something he remembered his grandmother making. He went down his list of nostalgic pastries and challenged me to make some of them in the future. But for now, the Apple Cake… “and could you please make sure to put LOTS of crumble topping on it as well, and LOTS of powdered sugar” because that’s how he remembered it.

I was eager to deliver on Stan’s challenge so I did some trial bakes to make sure I got it just right. After a few tries I was ready to make his cake, confident that it would resemble the one from his childhood and hopeful that it would bring back some memories for him.

The week of Thanksgiving, as I was prepping pie orders, I received a text message from Stan’s daughter- in-law Carol. She told me that Stan had been admitted to the hospital and had received a tracheostomy; he was no longer able to swallow or speak. He had written about his cake order on a white board in the hospital and she asked if it was too late to cancel the order. I was so sorry to hear that he was unwell and that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy his cake.

My husband happened to be at the hospital to visit another friend that very next day. He asked me for Stan’s room number and stopped in to introduce himself to Stan and his son, Ross. He captured the most touching photo of them that displayed the undeniable love shared between the two of them.

Later that day, Carol told me that Stan would be coming home for hospice care. “Is it too late to get the cake?” she asked. “It might be one of the last things he eats. It’s almost poetic that he ordered that Russian Apple Cake”. We were honored to deliver his cake the next day.

After Thanksgiving, Carol texted to say that the Russian Apple Cake made Thanksgiving so special. When Ross put a pea sized amount of the cake in Stan’s mouth, he smiled huge and pretended to die, showing that his sense of humor was still intact.

I was so grateful for the chance to lift a spirit with a morsel of nostalgia. Carol included a photo of several friends and neighbors there on Thanksgiving, all gathered around Stan’s bed. Everyone had a piece of cake.

Stan Alper 

10/2/41-12/5/21 

Rest in Peace