Many of my childhood restaurant memories were made at the American Pie Company, a small, American-style restaurant and bakery in Sherman, Connecticut. The last time I stopped in this past summer, it felt weird walking in and being able to see over the counter as I was greeted by the person at the register – as a child, I always remember walking into the bakery, which was attached to the restaurant, the bells on the door ringing as the door shut behind me, the smell of a freshly baked pie hitting my face, and being greeted by a sprawling case of large cookies instead. These delectable cookies of every kind imaginable were always something I looked forward to after dinner. As soon as I would see the case of cookies, I would start thinking about which one I would get for dessert that time – peanut butter was always my favorite, but sometimes I would get chocolate chip or – if I was feeling extra daring – the double chocolate chip cookie. My brother and sister would always get the M&M cookie, which I hated – the one time I tried it, I picked off all of the M&M’s, leaving the bare, hole-filled, tasteless sugar cookie on my plate.

Both my Mom and Dad knew the owners through the community and my Dad’s former business. They would always come out and say hello to us, asking how everything was, either while we were eating or on our way out. I felt special having the owners come over and personally ask how we enjoyed our meal.

American Pie was the place I stopped in to get a snack and drink (usually a cookie and a Snapple) after working at a job with my Dad if we happened to be near Sherman. It was the place where I spent countless breakfasts, lunches and dinners eating with my family, cousins and close friends. I remember walking up the creaky, steep wooden stairs to the upstairs balcony where families and large parties usually ate. The second we would sit down, my brother, sister and I would scramble for the small, ideal-sized pink and blue sugar packets which we would use to build castles with, dreading to be the one stuck with the large, bulky “Sugar In the Raw” packets that never worked well. When the sugar packet building would get out of hand, we would quiz each other with the trivia cards sitting in the middle of the table. We weren’t ever any good at them, though, as most of the cards asked about actors and movies we had never heard about.

When I was little, my favorite meals were on the Kid’s Menu – grilled cheese, chicken fingers, and macaroni and cheese. As I got older, I learned to try new things, like their sirloin steak, which was cooked very well with very good flavor. Their buttermilk pancakes have always been a favorite of mine when I eat breakfast there. The perfectly soft, fluffy pancakes, complemented extremely well with drizzled syrup and butter, melt in your mouth and are extra satisfying when paired with a side of bacon or home fries.

During my childhood, American Pie was the place I learned not to blow bubbles in my drink or slurp with my straw after I’d finished my drink. As I got older, it was the place where I shared meals with old friends, catching up, talking about our busy lives, and wondering why we never saw much of each other anymore. It was the place where I talked and spent time talking with my Dad over lunch. A few years ago, I remember eating a meal with my sister, and when we were finished, we innocently asked about the free cookie that always came with our meal. Then came the resentful, sympathetic look from the waitress who told us that cookies only came with meals from the Kid’s Menu. Until a couple of years ago, my sister would still try to order chicken fingers off of the Kid’s Menu – she claimed it was because she’s a picky eater, which she most certainly is, but I always liked to think it was because she still wanted that cookie. Even though the cookies were no longer free with our meal, we still got them anyways and enjoyed them just the same.

Image: http://americanpiecompany.com/photos/IMG_1127.JPG