Apple-Gouda Pigs in a Blanket

Mother's Day. And I am thinking about my mother, Hattie Pearl Williams, who has been gone sixteen years and who is still the first person I talk to when I stand at the stove. Not out loud — I'm not that far gone, though give me a few more years — but in my head, in the place where her voice lives, the place where she says "more salt" and "lower the heat" and "Dorothy Mae, if you burn that rice I will come back from the dead and take that pot from you."

Hattie Pearl would be a hundred and two if she were alive. She'd be sitting in this kitchen telling me I use too much butter, which is rich coming from a woman who put lard in everything including, I'm fairly certain, her morning coffee. She taught me everything. Not just the cooking — the philosophy. Feed people. Feed them first. Feed them whether they ask or not. Feed them when they're sad and when they're happy and when they don't know what they are. The food will find the right place inside them. The food always knows.

Denise brought me flowers — white roses, because Hattie Pearl loved white roses, a fact that Denise remembers and I appreciate more than I say. Kayla called at seven, same as every morning. "Happy Mother's Day, Granny," she said. "Happy Mother's Day to Michael," I said, because Kayla is the mother Michael never got to see his daughter become, and Mother's Day is complicated when the person who made you a mother's child isn't here to celebrate it.

Patricia called from Jacksonville. Earl Jr. called from Atlanta. Even Alexis — Patricia's youngest, the travel nurse, currently in Portland, Oregon — FaceTimed me from what appeared to be a very small apartment with a very large plant. "That plant needs water," I said. She said, "It's fake, Granny." I said, "Then it needs to be thrown away. Get a real plant. A real plant teaches you responsibility." She laughed. She will not get a real plant. But I have said my piece.

I cooked Hattie Pearl's dinner tonight. The Mother's Day dinner. Smothered pork chops with onion gravy, rice, collard greens (three hours, ham hock, vinegar), cornbread in the cast iron skillet — HER cast iron skillet, the one that's been in this family longer than any of us — and peach cobbler for dessert. Her cobbler. Her recipe. The one I make from memory because I've made it a thousand times and my hands know the flour and the butter and the sugar the way they know my own face.

Set the table for six: me, Denise, Robert, Kayla, Devon, and the chair. Earl's chair. The empty one. Mother's Day is also the day I miss the man who made me a mother, and the chair is where that missing lives.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Kayla and Devon were the first ones to arrive, and Devon’s eyes went straight to the counter the way they always do — looking for something to snack on before the real dinner hit the table. Hattie Pearl always kept something small out for the grazers, the ones who love you too much to wait. These Apple-Gouda Pigs in a Blanket are exactly what she would have set out: warm, a little sweet, a little savory, wrapped up neat and gone in two bites, just enough to hold everybody over until the big pots were ready. Feed them first. Feed them whether they ask or not. Mama knew.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 8 (about 24 pieces)

Ingredients

1 package (8 oz) refrigerated crescent roll dough
1 package (12–14 oz) cocktail smoked sausages (about 24 links)
1 small Honeycrisp or Gala apple, peeled and cut into thin strips
4 oz Gouda cheese, cut into thin strips
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon honey
1 egg, lightly beaten (for egg wash)
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Pinch of black pepper

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
Mix the glaze. In a small bowl, stir together the Dijon mustard and honey until combined. Set aside.
Separate the dough. Unroll the crescent dough onto a lightly floured surface. Separate into the pre-cut triangles along the perforations. Cut each triangle lengthwise into 2–3 narrower strips depending on desired size, giving you roughly 24 strips total.
Add the fillings. Lay one strip of Gouda and one strip of apple at the wide end of each dough strip. Place one cocktail sausage on top of the apple and cheese.
Roll them up. Starting at the wide end, roll each strip snugly around its sausage, apple, and cheese. Place seam-side down on the prepared baking sheet, spacing about 1 inch apart.
Glaze and season. Brush each rolled piece lightly with the beaten egg wash. Sprinkle with a pinch of garlic powder and black pepper. Drizzle or brush the honey-mustard glaze over the tops.
Bake. Bake for 13–15 minutes, until the dough is deep golden brown and the cheese is bubbling at the edges. Do not underbake — the color is what gives you the flavor.
Rest and serve. Let cool on the pan for 3–4 minutes before serving. Serve warm with extra honey-mustard on the side for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Apple-Gouda Pigs in a Blanket — Wrapped Up in Love, the Way Hattie Pearl Would Have Wanted