The name is misleading. This is an invention of my mother's unique Vermont vocabulary. Over 50 years ago, one of my jobs at the family resort in the Poconos was to keep the soda fountain bar open so my parents could go to bed in order to be up at 6 am to get the golfers out and then start breakfast for the rest of the guests. The guests were card players and Mah Jongg devotees. Gin for the men, alternating Canasta and Mah Jongg for the women. I learned Mah Jongg at the feet of our guests, and subbed in as a fourth so the players could take bathroom breaks.
The guests played until about 11pm, and then ordered tea and toast, or hot water with lemon and toast, or warm prune juice and toast. So I prepared their orders and of course made the occasional sandwich or two.
The hotel was housed in a huge Victorian building with a wrap around porch and all sorts of additions that the years brought. Across the massive parking area stood our family house, built in 1946, where the old barn once stood. My mother, ensconced in her bed, would place a call to me every night at about 11:30: "Would you please bring me a wet nut sundae?"
All that consisted of was 2 ingredients. This is not about the recipe - it's about the story behind it. I am moving my parents out of the town where my father was born, and where he was raised - 88 years ago. —Bevi
walnuts, chopped to the size of half a petite pinky fingernail
grade B maple syrup
any ice cream. My mother preferred maple walnut, but tonight she was very happy with chocolate