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My family is being torn apart by a gift bag.

It started the week before Mother's Day, when I decided to send my mom in Indiana a gift of food from Ohio.

Thanks to Dorothy Lane Market's mail-order service, it required less effort than picking out a card. A few clicks of the mouse, and "The Ohio Bag" was on its way, delivering an assortment of Dayton-area delights, including Esther Price chocolates, Mamma DiSalvo's pasta sauce, DLM preserves and Mike Sells potato chips, all in a Dorothy Lane Market grocery tote.

I knew they liked Pine Club dressing, and I figured I couldn't go wrong.

But wrong I went. Straight down that road paved with good intentions.

When I called to see whether the package arrived, my father answered the phone and positively gushed over the Ohio Bag.

"I really like the grocery tote," he said. "And thanks for the Pine Cone dressing."

My mother — who, like most moms, spent a good part of her life putting others first — wasn't about to take a back seat on Mother's Day. "It's Pine Club," she corrected as she took over the phone. I think I heard her eyes rolling.

"Your dad's already eaten all the chocolates," she informed me.

My dad picked up the bedroom extension. "I ate one," he said.

"Well, he's got his eyes on all the dark ones," she said. "And he wanted to give the Pine Club dressing to your sister!"

At this point, they're not really talking to me anymore; I just happen to be on the other end of the phone. The Ohio Bag was looming between them, taunting them with all its goodness.

My sister, who shares a ZIP code with my parents, went over the next day for Mother's Day dinner.

"She brought me a card," Mom said. "Just a card. Of course, that's probably more than I'll get from your brother."

The comparisons were unavoidable. Ohio Bag vs. a card vs. nothing. As the clear winner, I should've been feeling pretty good. But somehow I didn't think my sister would be applauding me. She, after all, took the time and trouble to actually visit Mom on Mother's Day. That should've counted for something.

And the bag had one more wedge to drive. "And do you know," my mom said, lowering her voice, "that your dad tried to give your sister the Pine Club dressing after all? I walked into the kitchen and saw him! So, we're not speaking now."

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

I can't really be mad at the folks at Dorothy Lane. Yes, it was their Web site that made it so easy to send that bag.

But that same Web site also has an impressive recipe archive, and when I saw that the first peaches of the season were rolling in, I went there and found this new twist on peach crumble. Instead of topping it with ice cream or whip cream, it calls for a sweet mascarpone cheese topping. Maybe I'll make an extra batch to take to Indiana – along with several jars of Pine Club dressing.

Easy Peach Crumble

Makes 10 servings

4 cups (4-5) pitted fresh peaches, sliced

1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted

1/2 cup fresh blueberries

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 cup mascarpone cheese

1/4 cup dry bread crumbs

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup quick-cooking oatmeal

1 tablespoon vanilla

In a bowl, mix the mascarpone, sugar and vanilla and set aside. Preheat oven to broil setting.

Gently combine the peaches, blueberries and brown sugar. Place in an ovenproof baking dish. Sprinkle with bread crumbs and oatmeal. Drizzle butter over the peaches. Broil until brown and crisp.

Serve the crumble with the creamy, sweet mascarpone topping.

Source: www.dorothylane.com

Contact this writer at carol.rini@gmail.com

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