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There’s something nostalgic and comforting about Boston cream cheese. It always reminds me of family gatherings growing up in Massachusetts: that delicious vanilla cake filled with buttery velvety frosting and topped with chocolate fudge. My mother made delicious Boston apples for my father’s birthday every year. As I carefully poured the perfume onto the stove, the whole house was filled with a wonderful smell.
As a child, I would patiently run around the kitchen, trying to escape from the finger of that dreamy guard whenever I had the chance. My mother kicked me out of the house and told me I had to wait until after dinner to do my real work. And it was always worth the wait; That first bite of the delicious cake giving way to cream, silky frosting and chocolate was absolutely heavenly.
