When I was a little girl, my Uncle Donny owned a doughnut shop. I can still remember the sweet smell of the shop, the flour smudges on my uncle’s all white uniform and, of course, the sweet treats. Looking back, I’m sure it was anything but glamorous to be up in the wee hours of the morning making bear claws, maple bars and apple fritters. But, oh, the deliciousness! Fast forward let’s not talk about how long to a couple of weeks ago when my landlord gifted me a bag of apples from the tree in her backyard. Tart green apples that were perfect for baking. That’s my kind of…