THE BEST pasty and apple pie I ever ate came from a little shop in Big Bay Michigan. My mouth waters just thinking about it. It was 1967 or 68, My dad was buying and selling scrap metal at the time.

We drove to Big Bay to bid on a small scrap yard near there. My younger brother and I gave our opinions on the resale value after doing a walkabout and knocking over a barrel or two.

My brother had almost given dad a coronary by flipping over a car hood and exposing a rather large and equally frightened black snake. It all happened so fast, the hood flipped, the snake going one way and my father the other. I looked up and I was all alone.

I didn’t Know my dad was afraid of snakes, just four kinds, he told me later. Big ones, little ones live ones, and dead ones. I never saw saw anyone move so fast.

The pasty shop looked like an oasis as we pulled into the parking lot. Oh the smell of pastys that swirled around my hungry self that afternoon, melded with the perfume of fresh coffee and what would turn out to be the best apple pie I ever ate.

The whole day is jewel held in my memory spanning the decades and oh so many miles. I take it out from time to time, still trying to duplicate the recipe for both the pastys and the apple pie. I make a mean pasty and a darn good apple pie, but it’s neve quite as good as what we got in Big Bay that summer day so long ago. It’s just never quite right.