tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21117439465663052352024-02-18T23:58:41.347-08:00A Year of Mennonite CookingA Kansas woman finds her grandmother's cookbook and begins a journey from the familiar to the strange recipes from her heritage.Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-65211682219667621272018-12-24T12:08:00.000-08:002018-12-24T12:28:35.286-08:00Christmas Morning: Enter the EngineerThis was going to be a sweet and sentimental post about my lovely Mennonite mother who is at age 90, losing words and memories slowly and steadily. She remains beautiful, wise, and strong and cognizant of all the truly important things: faith, gentleness, boundless grace. But she seems to have forgotten how to make the “tea ring” that graced our table every morning for Christmas as long as I can remember. It’s a tradition we all hold dear and delicious so I decided that the baton had been passed and it was now going to be my job. This was bittersweet. I miss my mama as she used to be: great with words, confident, and my teacher in the kitchen. I grew up working alongside her always, the Mennonite equivalent of a sous chef.<br />
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So this afternoon I decided this was the time and my little galley kitchen was the place. I made the dough, it raised beautifully. I rolled the dough, it was an awkward oval. My husband, who brings to Christmas festivities the same enthusiasm most people have for Groundhog Day, was nearby. I called out to him, “The dough has risen but I’m not sure what to do.” He answered, “The jello is ruined and you are through?” Clearly nobody is aging at the Awe household! “No,” I said, “I’m trying to make my mother’s tea ring and I’m afraid I’m going to mess it up.” This moment was laden with sentiments of Christmas Past for me and I was having trouble rising to the task.<br />
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Enter the Engineer husband, who fortuitously put aside his Scrooge tendencies because he loves me. “How hard can this be?” He spread butter, sprinkled cinnamons, spread brown sugar, and swaddled this yule log of yeasty dough into a perfect circle. He made the 2/3 cut and laid those pieces down like they were babies at nap time. My heart was 10 times lighter. The tea ring rises, Christmas breakfast can go on and the lion will lie down with the lamb. <br />
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God Bless Us Everyone!<br />
~Ellen~<br />
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<br />Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-60862342632866203392012-06-25T07:50:00.000-07:002012-06-25T16:35:39.584-07:00Stammering Forth:Salad with Avocado Dressing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRxKMa9n2cpzKXjwGrgBERIMOstBulN72bXnd7TLvhTgY32CUpIY95TYYwivrOPumSayAXrLUx19SMBH8xRcP4WSC0V0tF3cUVERnPdsMcH__JTynoQldNEKXy9fbinD0yGTZv2ft0lRJp/s1600/avocado+dressing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="145" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRxKMa9n2cpzKXjwGrgBERIMOstBulN72bXnd7TLvhTgY32CUpIY95TYYwivrOPumSayAXrLUx19SMBH8xRcP4WSC0V0tF3cUVERnPdsMcH__JTynoQldNEKXy9fbinD0yGTZv2ft0lRJp/s200/avocado+dressing.JPG" /></a><br />
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"...and in the meantime, this side of Paradise, it is our business..to speak with our heart...and to bear witness to, and live out of, and live toward, and live by, the true word of his holy story as it seeks to stammer itself forth through the holy stories of us all." Frederick Buechner<br />
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Cooking alongside someone lends itself to sharing stories. You read, question, laugh, bump elbows and reflect as you seek to create something out of the avocado, the garlic clove, and the olive oil. Recently as we launched into a brand new recipe, my daughter Amber asked, "What if this turns out to be awful?" I said, "That's okay, what if it does? That's just part of the experience." As we are trying a new recipe we often speak our memories of times past in the kitchen, both the culinary mishaps and the flavorful masterpieces. However, when I answered this particular question last week, I knew and perhaps she did too, that I wasn't just talking about cooking.<br />
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It's a mystery but cooking and sharing stories helps me to stammer out what I believe in, regret, hope for, and love. The firmness of the wood floor, the coarseness of countertop and the smoothness of the heavy wooden spoon grounds my senses and brings me to the present. Attention is required as well as the ability to let go of the outcome. When I share the kitchen experience with friends and family, I find myself speaking with my heart and bearing witness to the much-larger-than-me holy story that wants to find its home in the world. I find myself listening to the stories of others who enter the space. Sometimes we stammer, sometimes we flow but a warm and cozy kitchen with wafting fragrances provides a space where we realize what needs to be said. We are, all of us it seems,seeking to speak with our hearts and make sense of our crazy holy stories. <br />
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This effort, the latest from my treasured collaboration with daughter Amber, didn't turn out awful. In fact, it was very good. The dressing needed more kick though because I added the spices and I ALWAYS tend to be too skimpy with them. I need to follow the example of my more adventurous daughter and toss them out with a generous hand. When we were eating and evaluating, I admitted this. "Mom," she sighed, "you're such a Mennonite." <br />
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The dressing is creamy and rich and pours like little waterfalls over the greens. The crisp bacon on the top was a wonderful addition. It is a great summer salad! <br />
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Salad with Avocado Dressing<br />
Dressing:<br />
4 small very ripe avocados<br />
1 cup light sour cream<br />
1 cup fat free half and half<br />
1 T grated onion<br />
1 dash (a big dash) cayenne <br />
1 tsp salt<br />
2 garlic cloves, crushed<br />
2 T lemon juice<br />
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Salad:<br />
mixed greens or romaine<br />
grilled chicken pieces (I used leftover grilled chicken that I had marinated with southwestern spices)<br />
strips of crisp bacon<br />
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Layer each plate with greens and chicken pieces.<br />
Pour dressing over the salad and lay bacon strips on top.<br />
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Stammer forth and spice liberally,<br />
~Ellen~<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsKFVxANOCel1uObyR1T1eKr6RepDBgEcLZIIiCOqT7xUMwO7XuNi1vzql7VMgXiQEoNOL01srdm5n_-CAsUyMfgR1iryeVa3mm2MH5zSkdOdETobvrhTdulGmvHRex8upOyqXtDi44IZ/s1600/Amber+Italian+cooking+night.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsKFVxANOCel1uObyR1T1eKr6RepDBgEcLZIIiCOqT7xUMwO7XuNi1vzql7VMgXiQEoNOL01srdm5n_-CAsUyMfgR1iryeVa3mm2MH5zSkdOdETobvrhTdulGmvHRex8upOyqXtDi44IZ/s200/Amber+Italian+cooking+night.JPG" /></a><br />
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<br />Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-48098293135381227242012-03-21T08:18:00.011-07:002012-03-27T17:33:57.662-07:00A Good Life: Chicken and Asparagus Stir Fry<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYLjfk4NVGl0Rm-Ql8UOxlNvEb-GinQ7R2T5nKsGrB7POzuaOccx3k-6Cjx91PkzmrhGk5fxmmbCLEbSTO00lAiaWKbB3XEh_I0FjYyncDLyAjMth1NSiu9y8U57GHub8YabDh4tkaQiR/s1600/chicken+stir+fry.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYLjfk4NVGl0Rm-Ql8UOxlNvEb-GinQ7R2T5nKsGrB7POzuaOccx3k-6Cjx91PkzmrhGk5fxmmbCLEbSTO00lAiaWKbB3XEh_I0FjYyncDLyAjMth1NSiu9y8U57GHub8YabDh4tkaQiR/s200/chicken+stir+fry.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722468706647053938" /></a><br />Since losing my dad a couple of months ago, I have thought often of the lessons I learned from him over the years and most particularly those last days in the nursing care facility. We all knew he was dying and we had the gift of time to express our gratitude for the life we'd shared. Several times over those last weeks he'd say, "I've had a good life," without smile or frown, close his eyes and lay his head back in rest. <br /><br />Struggle was a theme of my dad's life. He struggled with being an orphan, he struggled with depression at times, and he struggled because he was a visionary, called to do different things in different ways. It wasn't always easy or understood but he kept creating new paths in and to the Kingdom. To hear him say at the end that he'd had a good life was a wonderful thing because for most of my life, I was aware of him being a bit restless in his wrestling with his life's call. There was joy, humor, and love always but often this sense of restlessness as well. To see the knowing expression and to hear the words "I've had a good life" brought me comfort. <br /><br />I've wondered what it is that makes a "good life" and I sense that it is different for everyone. In mourning the loss of my father and concurrently celebrating his life, I have attempted to illuminate those things that made his a "good life". I have felt that his life fully lived and his death so closely observed shouldn't go by without reflection and even transformation. In my own definition of a "good life" we are given experiences to learn about truth and beauty and having a front row seat to so much of his life and to his passing gives me much to ponder.<br /><br />Two things I came upon, written in his own hand, lead me close to understanding his thoughts on a good life:<br /><br />On a small card, sitting on his desk, these words:<br /><em>"Each one of us has an irrevocable vocation to be in Christ, and the Christ that I am supposed to be is irreplaceable. It has to be my vision of Christ and, if I do not fulfill that, there is going to be something missing forever and forever in the Kingdom of Heaven, and each of us know this and feels this. " </em> Thomas Merton<br /><br />And tucked in the back of a book, this quote from Peter Kreeft, <br />"<em>Saints reproduce themselves simply be being who they are</em>." <br /><br />A good life? Learning who we are to be, <em>in Christ</em>, and courageously being that each day until we are no longer on this earth. <br /><br /><br />....And now something good to sustain you on the journey:<br /><br /><strong>Chicken and Asparagus Stir Fry</strong><br /><br />3 tbsp soy sauce <br />2 tbsp fresh lemon juice <br />1 tsp grated lemon zest <br />1 tsp cornstarch <br />3/4 pound chicken breasts, cut into strips<br />1 tbsp canola oil <br />2 garlic cloves, finely chopped <br />4 green onions cut into small pieces<br />1/2 pound asparagus, cut into 1-inch diagonal pieces <br />1 carrot, cut into 1-inch diagonal pieces <br /><br />In a glass dish, stir together soy sauce, lemon juice and zest, and cornstarch. Add chicken pieces and coat well with marinade. Cover and refrigerate for 15-30 minutes.<br /> Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet. Add garlic and fry until softened. Reserving the marinade, add chicken followed by the onions, asparagus and carrots. Stir-fry for 3-4 minutes, until chicken is no longer pink.<br /> <br />Add marinade and cook until sauce is slightly thickened, about 1 minute. Serve over brown rice.<br /><br />Lifting my glass to the good life,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-89898215814350239552011-12-28T08:43:00.000-08:002011-12-28T19:29:00.383-08:00Every Detail: Christmas Pie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkuO4F-MDBt4Qnbj4cmO5tRZuqVzOZJVqpYNwIz3MDYHevb5WMAd7JWkam2NczUTE0wnht2UbKF219G7PRll4XwNlbXjDT_YJ-RZRvUPX79aLJE_XXNVolX9mv2iN8Rprof7Sh6TqGslE/s1600/christmas+pie+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkuO4F-MDBt4Qnbj4cmO5tRZuqVzOZJVqpYNwIz3MDYHevb5WMAd7JWkam2NczUTE0wnht2UbKF219G7PRll4XwNlbXjDT_YJ-RZRvUPX79aLJE_XXNVolX9mv2iN8Rprof7Sh6TqGslE/s200/christmas+pie+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691234016274400066" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span>Don't worry about anything;instead, pray about everything. Tell God every detail, and thank him for all he has done. If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand." Philippians 4:6-7<span style="font-style:italic;"></span><br /><br />This Christmas has been a difficult one as my sweet daddy is spending his last days with those who love him here on this earth. Recently, missing him, I went into his home office and looked around for pieces of my dad that I could cling to. On his desk were several things in his handwriting. One was the above verse. It brings me comfort and guidance for these days. My dad lived this in his life and is living it as he leaves us.<br /><br />For the past 30 or so years my mom has made Christmas Pie for our family feast on the day we celebrate the birth of Christ. My dad always loved it and would look forward to that first bite. "Mmmm, Mmmmm, how sweet it is," he'd often say. "Mary, you've done it again." One year, rather than a cake on his May birthday, he asked for Christmas pie.<br /><br />This year, with my mother spending her time by his bedside and with my hope to preserve some of the familiar traditions of our family, I made the Christmas pie. It wasn't the same, partly because my taste buds are dulled by sadness and grief but also because I forgot to ask my mom about every detail. It was still tasty and my family was kind enough to be enthusiastic about it. Mom shared her tips and next year's pie should be better and memories of my dad will hopefully sweeten the occasion.<br /><br />These days by his bedside and in everything I am doing, I am recalling details of life with my dad. A big presence, my dad. Laughing, tearful, passionate, curious, intense, relaxed. All in the same day sometimes. Dad is dedicated to his faith, family and friends and all the small details in his life add up to one big picture of love. Dad knew the importance of showing up and being present. He was good at the details: handwritten notes to encourage us, times by our bedsides, prayers offered on behalf of many, trees watered and tended, books read and shared. Such seemingly small details make up his large life. I am truly blessed to be his daughter. My heart overflows with gratefulness for the holy details of an everyday life offered up by my amazing dad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Christmas Pie</span><br />Make pastry shell for a 9 inch pie. Bake as directed.<br /><br />For the filling:<br />Soften 1 T gelatin in 1/4 cup cold water.<br />Mix together in saucepan:<br />1/2 cup sugar<br />4 T flour<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />Gradually stir in 1 1/2 cups milk.<br /><br />Cook over low heat, stirring until it boils. Boil one minute. Remove from heat. Stir in softened gelatin. Cool. When partially set, beat with rotary beater until smooth. Blend in 3/4 tsp vanilla, 1/2 tsp almond extract.<br /><br />Gently fold in 1/2 cup whipping cream that has been whipped until stiff.<br /><br />Make a meringue by add 1/4 tsp cream of tartar to 3 egg whites. Gradually add 1/2 cup sugar until it peaks.<br />Stir in 1 cup moist shredded coconut.<br />Pour into cooled baked pie shell. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup coconut. Chill until firm.<br /><br />This recipe adapted from the Betty Crocker cookbook.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />"How sweet it is!"</span>Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-6643433826749813892011-08-16T18:39:00.000-07:002011-08-20T19:43:28.650-07:00Cinnamon Flop and Going Back<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR_xTFE8CNK3ohqe_HldrKzbotY18xqoLlBpU_Ir3vSXxbV20sHD8H4yx2-d3dINkbYBoKPuPIyDw1ENw8WdI7Dl_lnHmJJYpexne0nrP8uDVwdOOBW_3BZqOaXyhFK7TaL2kenFU8XcVu/s1600/cinnamon+flop.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR_xTFE8CNK3ohqe_HldrKzbotY18xqoLlBpU_Ir3vSXxbV20sHD8H4yx2-d3dINkbYBoKPuPIyDw1ENw8WdI7Dl_lnHmJJYpexne0nrP8uDVwdOOBW_3BZqOaXyhFK7TaL2kenFU8XcVu/s320/cinnamon+flop.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642004237477141810" /></a>
<br /><em> "We have to allow ourselves to be loved by the people who really love us, the people who really matter... "
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<br />C. Joybell C.</em>
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<br />In the midst of a long, cold and weary winter earlier this year, I thought ahead to my 50th birthday which would fall in July. "What do I want to do" I asked myself, "that I haven't done?" It came to me that what I yearned for wasn't something new, but rather something old. I wanted to reconnect with some important people from my past. People who have loved me and whom I have loved. Friends and family that I have lost touch with but whose voices and faces still linger in my mind when something comes into the landscape that reminds me of them.
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<br />I decided to start to visit some of these important folks and get reacquainted. I wanted to celebrate what I held dear about them and to feel the love once again. So, I started with my college friend Rhoda and my closest relatives on my dad's side, the Hess family. It was as warm, cozy and comfortable as being wrappped in an old quilt being with them again. We laughed, cried and revisited old memories. We made some new ones as well. I came and left feeling blissfully blessed.
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<br />My Aunt Marion kindly followed this blog and made a list of her own favorite recipes from the Mennonite Community Cookbook. This is one she sent me. I tried it and it is delicious, sweet, and tasting of love like the many treats I ate so many years ago in her familiar kitchen in Lancaster County, PA. The name of this entry? Peculiar, I guess. I'd say it comes from the fact that it kind of rises while it bakes, then flops down again. It develops cinnamony valleys and subtle sugary peaks as it ascends and descends.
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<br />The people who love us are a great gift. They smile when they see us, they laugh at our stories, they cry over our sorrows. They share themselves with us. They lovingly remind us of unfortunate haircuts, bad boyfriends and childhood imaginary friends. As they age, the become all the more dear to us and we smile as we get to hold them close once again. It's a wonderful gift, being able to go back.
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<br />Here is the recipe as I made it this afternoon.
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<br />2 cups cake flour
<br />3/4 cup sugar
<br />2 1/2 tsp baking powder
<br />1/2 tsp salt
<br />1/4 cup butter
<br />1 egg
<br />1 cup milk
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<br />Mix dry ingredients together. Using two knives cut into shortening until the mixture is in fine crumbs.
<br />Beat egg and add milk.
<br />Add milk and egg gradually to dry ingredients until thoroughly mixed.
<br />Put mixture into a greased 9 or 10 inch pie late.
<br />Mix 1/3 cup melted butter, 3/4 cup brown sugar and 1 tsp of cinnamon. Sprinkle this mixture on top of the batter.
<br />Bake at 375 degrees for 25-30 minutes.
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<br />This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).
<br />Cinnamon flop. Sweet, cinnamon topped, densely delicious.
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<br />Urging you to reconnect with the love in your past,
<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-83805279112189417082010-12-08T14:59:00.000-08:002010-12-12T09:48:37.384-08:00Some final thoughts: Sand Tarts or Saint Hearts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2hDhBzM_WQ-eTybeuGHNwwItH3_NvuCOQGzXPTYGggS2xQE29UJGzn-buOcvZ2ESuLtcJgWQ3MOvWn-G6gIxeGRJ7HGimDuQZDb5DSX7bPn5iq9kf5ZVps_WmC0GR3ahrOvam95WVV6N/s1600/saint+hearts.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2hDhBzM_WQ-eTybeuGHNwwItH3_NvuCOQGzXPTYGggS2xQE29UJGzn-buOcvZ2ESuLtcJgWQ3MOvWn-G6gIxeGRJ7HGimDuQZDb5DSX7bPn5iq9kf5ZVps_WmC0GR3ahrOvam95WVV6N/s200/saint+hearts.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548463448955475490" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hIv5nKZtDB2hjyISndkl0TYN3RwnHMxgElxAi6bT5sFASuJMbrIuX8Fvppm5n-ZNKfzS6zVqa_txoMqmIW8QTEZ5gVN9y_ZNOmnyd5yNQsMSBRQhONdmJHnUdcMgsGQn7By0T_4tWVRd/s1600/scramble.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 114px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hIv5nKZtDB2hjyISndkl0TYN3RwnHMxgElxAi6bT5sFASuJMbrIuX8Fvppm5n-ZNKfzS6zVqa_txoMqmIW8QTEZ5gVN9y_ZNOmnyd5yNQsMSBRQhONdmJHnUdcMgsGQn7By0T_4tWVRd/s200/scramble.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548463259170182594" /></a><br />Well, this is it! The final blog. It is a few weeks shy of a year but with over 52 entries, I am feeling it is time to turn my attention to some other things. The jar of scramble(pictured above) was something produced on each end of this project, December 2009 and December 2010.<br /><br />The sand tarts are nice little uncomplicated Christmas cookies. Rolled thinly, brushed with rich milk, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar they are the perfect sweet treat for the cookie minimalist. Which I am. I love to look at those pretty, dripping, stone-studded cookies offered at a local bakery, but they are too much for my palate. I also love the alternative name the cookbook records for this cookie. Saint Hearts. It reminds me of a teaching colleague at the Catholic school. She told me recently about sitting at the school Mass with one of her very challenging students. She was praying for him and asking for patience to deal with his behavioral needs. He was nudging her all the while, saying her name. She asked him to wait so she could pray for more patience for yet another request. When she was done with her final desperate petition, the student whispered to her, "Mrs. W___, what do you have to do to be a saint?" When she relayed this experience to me, I laughed and laughed. Talk about a speedy reply.<br /><br />I would like to have the heart of a saint. I want a heart that seeks to love in extraordinary ways, contains patience for troubles, has a need for little besides the opportunity to serve humanity. Sometimes, cooking in the kitchen with reverence for the women that created this beautiful book, as well as memories of the offered love by my mother and grandmother and finally with absolute gratefulness for the heritage of my faith community, I felt closer to acquiring the heart of a saint than ever before. I felt still in my kitchen even as my hands were busy. I felt content, even as I created a huge mess of flour covered counter tops and sticky dishes which would need attention. I felt hunger for goodness, even as I ate the solid foods from the hallowed pages of the Mennonite Community Cookbook. I don't do quiet and reflective well out in the big busy world. I react and overreact too much. In the warm place that is my kitchen, with memories of the only grandmother I ever knew, I found some peace of mind. I liked it. <br /><br />Thank you for reading this blog and for sharing your own thoughts and memories. That was one of the great bonuses for me. Many of these recipes will continue to be made and served in my home. I loved the surprises I found along the way and am pleased to say that pie dough no longer intimidates me. The simple pleasures of cooking for those I love is always a gift. I count myself blessed that my grandmother and mother modeled that for me and that they let me help before I could do it myself.<br /><br />I offer you now, and finally, the recipe for Sand Tarts <em>or Saint Hearts </em>adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).<br /><br />1 cup shortening (I used one stick of butter, 1 stick of margarine)<br />2 cups sugar<br />3 eggs<br />3 1/2 to 4 cups of flour<br />1 tsp salt<br />2 tsp baking powder<br />1 tsp vanilla<br />Cream shortening and sugar together. Add eggs and vanilla and beat until fluffy. Add flour, salt and baking powder and mix well. Add enough flour to make a medium-soft dough (whatever this means). Chill several hours in the refrigerator. Roll the dough very thin and cut in fancy shapes. Brush top with half and half and sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon. <br />Place on greased cookie sheets.<br />Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes.<br /><br />Thank you so much for reading.<br />I wish you peace,<br />~Ellen ~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-79525523371364621972010-11-24T05:38:00.000-08:002010-11-26T05:41:37.008-08:00How Sweet It Is: Pumpkin Ice Cream Pie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkzCpEsHpaypm318ptBKCnJJvc7HOXqjAeBmyfwYy7fNrOvKgMW2UOrvbhUNS5rwNadDJkUmH_Si__jwCLBAae5H2MkWNUNK0OQRz11p2XDAmWKp5SseJCHu184kcCgC1R_mTjUoY9Dlt/s1600/pumpkin+ince+cream+pie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRkzCpEsHpaypm318ptBKCnJJvc7HOXqjAeBmyfwYy7fNrOvKgMW2UOrvbhUNS5rwNadDJkUmH_Si__jwCLBAae5H2MkWNUNK0OQRz11p2XDAmWKp5SseJCHu184kcCgC1R_mTjUoY9Dlt/s200/pumpkin+ince+cream+pie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543116328921527458" /></a><br />"How sweet it is!" I have heard this exclamation from the lips of my father countless times whe he savors the sight, smell and taste of a favorite dessert. Savor is the word. Never have I seen my dad gobble, he can make a slice of pie last 15 minutes. Enjoying each bite, celebrating each tasty morsel and the company of those around him. In this, and in many things, my dad shows us how to live the journey.<br /><br />Tomorrow we will gather around the table with some new things. New family members, new jobs, and for my father a new diagnosis: brain cancer. Sporting a serious scar and 24 staples in his cranium, Dad is still embracing the moments and savoring the gifts therein. So much is unknown about what lies ahead. Sitting at the head of the table, digesting the information from websites and doctors' reports, Dad suggests we take it one phase at a time. So we will. Celebrating the sweetness to be found in each moment: love, warm hugs, good doctors, soup from friends, prayers offered and a most holy presence lying deep within the soul. <em>Glory Be.</em><br /><br />Here is a recipe I want to share for a variation of pumpkin pie. It was found in the margins of Grandma's cookbook. I had to assume or make up some of it as Grandma's instructions were somewhat abbreviated. I hope whatever desserts you enjoy for your Thanksgiving feast taste are thoroughly enjoyed, one bite at a time.<br /><br />Pumpkin Ice Cream Pie<br /><br />1 cup pumpkin<br />1/2 cup brown sugar<br />1/4 tsp salt<br />1/2 tsp cinnamon<br />1/2 tsp ginger<br />1/4 tsp nutmeg<br />1 qt ice cream<br /><br />Mix above ingredients and pour into graham cracker crust. Freeze until 20 minutes before serving.<br /><br />With a grateful heart,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-87833253706258541132010-11-10T18:35:00.001-08:002010-11-11T15:35:25.860-08:00Happy Happy Birthday: Whoopie Pies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-iFqiU0JZZjXRJ5CepH1xvf1Ir7IltpJq8k5Jpf6nZHMnp8gTH9DlOCTOszlqiGtoUyg_VK9Mm0Uzmt0mtXvXmzqft2SBM_hYlSN5eXRKiTmUAcrCjRbG0_4JyJcJZ8H7ehyfN9VqNoJ/s1600/whoopie+pies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-iFqiU0JZZjXRJ5CepH1xvf1Ir7IltpJq8k5Jpf6nZHMnp8gTH9DlOCTOszlqiGtoUyg_VK9Mm0Uzmt0mtXvXmzqft2SBM_hYlSN5eXRKiTmUAcrCjRbG0_4JyJcJZ8H7ehyfN9VqNoJ/s200/whoopie+pies.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538116165095961090" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVmbWTaVJYgoXNS2NWq1YFwWGUoV9A86xnl06k2fyKpmFi_AwYNuM8L7IfoNoFRM3IRcZqGK8B9sSJ90UNkeNTic61gETNr5oJ7Hr7KLfEAL8vDQDbDbHkscwvuGq9jz8DLopresroAin/s1600/Avery.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVmbWTaVJYgoXNS2NWq1YFwWGUoV9A86xnl06k2fyKpmFi_AwYNuM8L7IfoNoFRM3IRcZqGK8B9sSJ90UNkeNTic61gETNr5oJ7Hr7KLfEAL8vDQDbDbHkscwvuGq9jz8DLopresroAin/s200/Avery.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538116030838891266" /></a><br />Oh my, the whoopie pie. As much fun to say as it is to eat. I made these to celebrate my youngest daughter's 18th birthday. It is a bittersweet occasion. I am happy to celebrate her 18 years of life, love, and health while facing the truth that I have no more children. I am still a mother, yes, but I have young adults who call me mom, madre or mother, depending on the moment. I am not anyone's mommy. And sometimes I miss it.<br /><br />When we were young we would sometimes laugh and be surprised at how my grandma, who lived in Ohio, would forget how her grandchildren, residing in Kansas, had grown up. One year, she sent my brothers toy trucks for Christmas and it was well past the age where they played with such things. When we would go to her house after not seeing her for awhile, my mother would smile when she would replace the little child's cup or plate Grandma had set for me with an adult sized one. Well, let me say, I get it now. <br /><br />Even as I planned to make these whoopie pies, I imagined my daughter's joy will be the same as it was when I made them for her 9th birthday so long ago. But it can't be. Her world is much larger now. She will smile and be grateful but it will mean more to me, her mom, who wants to hang on to her with one hand and escort her to the edge of the nest with the other.<br /><br />When my children were young, I knew they went to bed at a good time, with clean ears and teeth and three bedtime stories. I knew they said their prayers and were safe and sound. I went bedside every night before my own repose, laid my hand on their backs and listened to the sweet sound of their tiny breath. I realized the miracle of being a mommy was an honor like no other. Some days, as my grandma did, I want to pull out a childhood remnant and say, "Look, honey, <em>Goodnight Moon</em>. Do you want me to read it to you?" I miss dyeing Easter eggs, trick or treating, driving the carpool.<br /><br />I am so grateful my children are growing, developmentally on target, smart and funny. There is some relief in the knowledge that they, not me anymore, are responsible for their future. But I still miss the days of backyard soccer, snowcones and cookie decorating. I wouldn't trade a day. I might do some better if I could but I can't. I loved them well and I still do. <br /><br />So, Happy Birthday Little One, Baby Avery, 18 year old young woman. I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my loved one you'll be. As you used to begin your childhood prayers, "Thank you God for this wonderful day." You were born this day. It is indeed, a wonderful day.<br /><br />And now, the recipe for Whoopie Pies:<br />1 cup sugar<br />1/2 cup margarine<br />1 egg<br />2 cups flour<br />1/2 cup baking cocoa<br />1 tsp vanilla<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />1/2 cup sour milk<br />1 tsp baking soda<br />1/2 cup hot water<br />Cream sugar and margarine. Add egg. Sift together flour, cocoa, and salt. Add to creamed mixture alternately with sour milk. Add vanilla.<br />Dissolve soda in hot water and add last. Mix well.<br />Drop by rounded teaspoonful onto greased cookie sheet. Bake at 400 for 9 minutes.<br />Fill with your favorite vanilla frosting.<br /><br />I use margarine, milk, vanilla and powdered sugar to make butter frosting of spreading consistency. I don't measure this too accurately. I start with about 3 T of butter, 2 T of milk and add 1 tsp of vanilla. I pour in powdered sugar until it seems right.<br /><br />Happy celebrating,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-6167939575147535282010-10-31T13:00:00.000-07:002010-11-01T17:29:28.045-07:00For all the Saints: Ellen's Cookies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPgZY5fF32tIA3soTAOUQTo-37q-FDydifb-o-KsRtfzOzVFnC9TT0qcP77GAc_hJ98GExJinkKEGQX5GuDRb73J4WyvFqEoDuRlttP2eFj3SCJcAi42zT2J1TY141lIv-1dEjZGaeTFxF/s1600/DSC03131.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPgZY5fF32tIA3soTAOUQTo-37q-FDydifb-o-KsRtfzOzVFnC9TT0qcP77GAc_hJ98GExJinkKEGQX5GuDRb73J4WyvFqEoDuRlttP2eFj3SCJcAi42zT2J1TY141lIv-1dEjZGaeTFxF/s200/DSC03131.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534742851739386850" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQOaaVDvecFk7lsZB36QxkOv9228BnDEoRxu2QImckR4gAFdfJ5G2JcrBkPZFc2lQQ2p41yvq5OiHPF4DUMoeOyF2x-rQXMeOsOo0MPIHjm6Q7eVjywn3tD2NVRLPeOo3wkWj-A11arxJ/s1600/lots+of+cookies.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQOaaVDvecFk7lsZB36QxkOv9228BnDEoRxu2QImckR4gAFdfJ5G2JcrBkPZFc2lQQ2p41yvq5OiHPF4DUMoeOyF2x-rQXMeOsOo0MPIHjm6Q7eVjywn3tD2NVRLPeOo3wkWj-A11arxJ/s200/lots+of+cookies.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534317130554914226" /></a><br /><br />Friends and family love these cookies. I witnessed my husband's enthusiastic response as he prepared to partake of a fresh warm cookie today. They are full of candy pieces (harvest colors this time) and chocolate chips, combined with a hint of peanut butter. Evolving over time, I finally have found the formula that results in soft, flavorful, morsel-filled cookies. So, although not from Grandma's cookbook, it seemed necessary to enter them into this blog because they have become a current favorite. The harmonious marriage of the old and the new is what this journey is about.<br /><br />All Saints Day is tomorrow and that was a theme of today's church service. We sang the words " for all the saints who from their labors rest" and I thought of Grandma working in kitchen and garden, now at rest. We sang about being in "mystic sweet communion" and I thought of feeling her spirit and feeling her presence when I read from her scrawled recipes and stained pages. Honoring tradition is a way of honoring the saints in our lives. My own wall of fame is full of saints: Julian of Norwich, Saint Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, Ghandi, and St. Therese. We would do well to honor the gift for doing the extraordinary into our current culture. Information comes to us know at rapid fire speed but the ancient writings of the saints contain a wisdom and a depth that we need- likely more we need the latest twitter posting of a contemporary. <br /><br />So, with reverence for the old and gratefulness for the new, I offer you my special cookie recipe. I hope you like them!<br /><br />Ellen's cookies<br />10 T margarine<br />1/2 cup smooth organic peanut butter<br />2/3 cup white sugar<br />2/3 cup brown sugar<br />1 T pure vanilla<br /><br />Mix all these ingredients until smooth.<br /><br />Add 2 eggs and continue mixing.<br /><br />2 cups flour<br />1 tsp baking soda<br />1/2 tsp salt<br /><br />Mix dry ingredients into above mixture. When well blended, add 1 cup chocolate chips and 3/4 cup M&M candies. <br /><br />Bake at 375 degrees for 10-12 minutes. These are so delicious right from the oven!<br /><br />Happy All Saints Day!<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-42627515866317896252010-10-24T13:59:00.000-07:002010-10-27T18:16:19.935-07:00Not Talking Turkey: Mock Turkey<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgikpd3cU2byAAkeREv6_FkVyfvPQHZycx_QQjEyz9m0EjvJPGONNWDE7Yk3unPJHEDeV9d-fOgbZG5BJmgBP3IrZ0PC0m28EMmCNkYZyOoZli4CobH0kRpT3vYUW2Qu_nEeifagUU7asrc/s1600/mock+turkey+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgikpd3cU2byAAkeREv6_FkVyfvPQHZycx_QQjEyz9m0EjvJPGONNWDE7Yk3unPJHEDeV9d-fOgbZG5BJmgBP3IrZ0PC0m28EMmCNkYZyOoZli4CobH0kRpT3vYUW2Qu_nEeifagUU7asrc/s320/mock+turkey+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531737323295425442" /></a><br />Wow! November is almost here which for many of us, causes our minds to turn to turkey. Or, mock turkey as the case may be. There is a recipe in the Mennonite Community Cookbook by that very name. The endorsement at the bottom of the recipe says, "This dish actually tastes like turkey." That it does. Or at least like turkey stuffing. I remember Grandma making it for us once when we went to visit her and subsequently my mom added it to her "occasional" list of recipes. You know, not the regular list of go to recipes but the ones pulled out occasionally. So, I remembered this recipe and prepared it last evening for dinner. It was satisfying and it tasted as I remember Grandma's dish.<br /><br />Thinking turkey and making mock turkey led me to think of the phrase <em>talking turkey</em> and it happens that I have a story about that. I think of it every November since it happened and I retell it if someone will listen. In 2005, I was going through a divorce and it was a rough time. Most of the time the pain felt so intense that it seemed as though I wasn't wearing skin. Small words of kindness and the slightest signs of hope kept me going. My faith led me to be grateful each day for small blessings and large gifts like breath and grace. It was a time when I didn't feel I had much to give and with the holidays approaching, I felt rather depressed. But,alas, being a Mennonite means you believe you are genetically equipped to go forth and serve no matter what the circumstances. Despair, who cares? Put on your sensible shoes and go do some good for the world.<br /><br />So, I heard there was going to be a dinner for the homeless in our community and it was to be served at a church in town. I called the pastor, whom I shall call Reverend Zeal. He has a good heart and a call to lead the church of Relentless Evangelism. When I picked up the phone to make this call I had no idea what I was in for. <em>Hello, Reverend Zeal. My name is Ellen and I heard that your church is serving a Thanksgiving meal for the homeless. I would like to help prepare or serve some </em><em>food if you need it. </em> Ellen? Ellen? Where are you from Ellen? <em>North Newton, sir.</em> Ahh Ellen, do you believe in our wonderful, sweet, sweet Jesus, Ellen? <em> Yes, yes I do.</em> Why Ellen, why, do you believe in our wonderful sweet, loving Jesus? <em>Well... (because answered prayers are the only thing keeping me from going over the edge didn't seem like a good response) ...because He </em><em>is wonderful? Now, I do love Jesus and I would like to know if you need some help with your Thanksgiving meal. I could help serve or bring some food. I</em> <em>would just like to help in some way.</em> Ahhh, Ellen, can you give a testimony? We need a testimony. <em>Well, Reverend Zeal, these days I am going through a bit of crisis and just trying to hang on. I do want to share and I</em> <em>really just want to serve some turkey.</em> Well, Ellen what we need is a TESTIMONY! I am not just TALKING TURKEY here, Can you give us a real <strong>Jesus</strong> testimony? That is what people need- a TESTIMONY! ( I am starting to think I will just stay home on Thanksgiving.) <em>Reverend, I would be very happy to come and talk to people and try to share some hope one -on -one but could I please just serve some turkey?</em> Well, Ellen we really need some testimonies but I suppose you could just bring a potato dish. (Clearly, he was disappointed.) <em>Okay, thank you </em><em> Reverend, goodbye.</em> Exhausted, I hung up the phone. I was looking for signs and this seemed to a good one that perhaps this year, I was allowed to stay home and be healed. Sometimes we have to show ourselves the kindness we offer so readily to others.<br /><br />So, I share with you now the recipe for mock turkey... perhaps for times when you aren't talking turkey!<br /><br />1 loaf stale bread<br />1 quart milk<br />1 carrot, grated<br />1 onion, minced<br />2 stalks celery, chopped<br />1 tsp salt<br />1 dash of pepper<br />1 lb ground sausage<br />1 tsp poulty seasoning<br /><br />Remove crust from load of bread;tear apart and moisten with milk. Add meat, chopped vegetables and seasoning.<br />Mix together well and place in a buttered baking dish. (9x13 is about right)<br />Bake at 350 for 1 and 1/2 hours.<br /><br />This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).<br /><br />Take good care,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-67078831736961019752010-10-16T13:03:00.000-07:002010-10-23T10:29:22.486-07:00The Mennonite tries Methodist: Chicken and Noodles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmpK7lw1IQYZDahG5LFsA_GBlGZ2VqH1EaDcD6lEgblxgRj_pG8S-9pxCT082WTeIWJzQ-NNPTdK5WDxymgTsyNoBjcmEsWuZLfEITf8U3lSQJI7Gl49kvWOHyVBi7VQM4e5U5Y0XKgA9/s1600/chicken+and+noodles.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwmpK7lw1IQYZDahG5LFsA_GBlGZ2VqH1EaDcD6lEgblxgRj_pG8S-9pxCT082WTeIWJzQ-NNPTdK5WDxymgTsyNoBjcmEsWuZLfEITf8U3lSQJI7Gl49kvWOHyVBi7VQM4e5U5Y0XKgA9/s320/chicken+and+noodles.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528778814069979970" /></a><br />Recently the big downtown food event of the year was happening in our quaint little village . Taste of Newton, kickoff to the Bethel College Fall Festival, closes down the main streets in the heart of the town and becomes a feeding frenzy of sorts. Churches, clubs, businesses, and organizations set up booths and sell their culinary specialities.There is also some local entertainment, singers, dancers, etc. but let's not kid ourselves, it is all about the food. Newtonians <em>turn out</em> for this event. They try ethnic foods, barbecue, and even fried food served in state fair type trailers. They see old friends and stop to laugh, talk and hold their stomachs while they compare their eating adventures. It is a great time. <br /><br />In my mind I had already decided that my dinner of choice would involve a reach across the denominational aisle for a Methodist main dish ( chicken and noodles) and a Presbyterian dessert (apple dumplings). These two things have been my favorite for the last 8 years or so that I attended. But it was not to be so. I eagerly approached the spot where the chicken and noodles table is usually stationed and I found a big empty patch of pavement. I was so disappointed. Stubbornly I made the rounds hoping maybe they had just chosen a new location but my search was in vain. There was not a bowl of Methodist chicken and noodles to be found. Not to worry, I found plenty to eat anyway but there was a hole in my heart where a bowl of chicken and noodles should have found its place. <br /><br />What do we do when there is a hole in our hearts? Well, we can try to fill that place with something else, we can try to distract ourselves with banalities temporal or we can deny that we are missing anything. Sometimes, we have to just wait and hope for what we are missing. Occasionally we realize what we have been missing has been there all along. And sometimes, as in the case of my chicken and noodles cavity, we have to take care of the need ourselves. And so, armed with a lovely plump locally raised chicken from Prairie Harvest and some Amish noodles from the grocery store, I cooked up a Mennonite batch of Methodist fare. It took a while, but it was wonderful.<br /><br />Here is the recipe I used. It is modified from the Mennonite Community Cookbook. <br /><br />Chicken and Noodles <br />1 plump locally raised chicken<br />1 lb package of noodles (I prefer the ones that say Amish on the package!)<br />1 1/2 tsp salt<br />4 T butter<br />4 T flour<br />2 cups milk<br />3 cups chicken broth <br /><br />Cook chicken in water until tender and remove meat from the bones. Cut into pieces. <br />Boil noodles in salt water according to package directions.<br />Drain the noodles with warm water.<br />Make a thin white sauce with the butter, flour and milk.<br />Add chopped chicken and noodles to broth. Stir in white sauce. Salt and pepper to taste. <br /><br />These were sooo good! Almost as good as the Methodist version although I still hope they come back to next Taste of Newton. If not, at least I know I don't have to go without- thanks to Grandma's cookbook. <br /><br />Peace,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-75815587913407517092010-10-09T16:42:00.000-07:002010-10-09T17:25:49.390-07:00I Like These: Sourdough Apple Wheat Rolls<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0SJgLutIxZDz212qLVN1i8TB1llygxzV-xB7oyRXjnsN0lSgSRJMcmgf8jA2sKVOHDxPUuLrSakwbY_YBqANf7XbxtZLPEhEVSb2g_5C5hZe_J2z3m8WTE_q2YiRjGMHdHAbI509_fkn/s1600/apple+butter+rolls.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL0SJgLutIxZDz212qLVN1i8TB1llygxzV-xB7oyRXjnsN0lSgSRJMcmgf8jA2sKVOHDxPUuLrSakwbY_YBqANf7XbxtZLPEhEVSb2g_5C5hZe_J2z3m8WTE_q2YiRjGMHdHAbI509_fkn/s320/apple+butter+rolls.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526206538023650018" /></a><br />I picked up my phone the other day and saw that I had a text message. It was one line from my daughter Emily at 8:07 AM: <em>I like these rolls</em>. That was it, and I knew which rolls she meant. It made my morning brighter, knowing she enjoyed them and was gathering sustenance for her day from something I had made. <br /><br />But about the likable rolls.. they require sourdough if you know how or where to get yourself some of that. I used my mother's sourdough which has been around for a half-century or more I assume. Being a teacher, mother, wife and dog owner I feel I have plenty to nurture so I steer clear of most things that need tending, even if you can keep it in tupperware with a lid on it. Sourdough still needs to be fed, stirred and coddled from time to time. But every now and again, I get hungry for these rolls so I borrow some sourdough to make them. They are hearty and delicious!<br /><br />I should say they are not from grandma's cookbook. They are a recipe I copied somewhere when I was a new bride. I carried the recipe from home to home on a piece of paper torn from a yellow legal pad. There are very few things I still make from those early years, but this is one. I have carried forth my grandma's tradition of hunting and gathering recipes. And someday, when my nest feels too empty, I will adopt some sourdough from the mother ship and bring it home, put it in a nice cozy bowl and give it my tender loving care. <br /><br />Sourdough Apple Wheat Rolls<br />Bring 1/2 cup sourdough starter to room temperature. In mixing bowl combine 1 and 1/2cups unbleached all purpose flour, 1 package yeast, 1/2 cup wheat germ, and 1/4 tsp baking soda. Heat 1/2 cup milk, 1/4 cup butter or margarine, 1 T honey and 3/4 tsp salt until warm. Add milk mixture to the flour mixture;stir in one beaten egg, 3/4 cup apple butter and the sourdough. Beat at low speed until blended. Add 1 and 1/2 cups of whole wheat flour and then enough white flour to make a semi-stiff dough. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic. Shape into a ball and put in a greased blow, turn once. Cover and let rise for 15 minutes. Shape into 24 two-inch balls. Place on greased baking sheets. Cover;let rise until double. Brush tops with milk or melted butter. Bake in a 375 oven for 15-18 minutes. Makes 24.<br /><br /><br />Blessings,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-23150701409932481522010-09-30T17:31:00.000-07:002010-10-06T16:40:24.461-07:00Learning to Invert: Apple Sponge Pudding<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforOQvCnUBPHLNXMyTFwXIxpE1XYPOhK9PASBj22phROMZGdZ9JvyOwGOwlsPxBoMXFAOPRXEu6F7xxA2oCUaL2mLafQXAGz1GP9yK9xYkQVPACSaAnxU97KwRvbIkE2o_kTJpxiCB90L/s1600/3-15-7-three-apples.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhforOQvCnUBPHLNXMyTFwXIxpE1XYPOhK9PASBj22phROMZGdZ9JvyOwGOwlsPxBoMXFAOPRXEu6F7xxA2oCUaL2mLafQXAGz1GP9yK9xYkQVPACSaAnxU97KwRvbIkE2o_kTJpxiCB90L/s320/3-15-7-three-apples.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525081061209089314" /></a><br />I guess you could call it a trifecta. Three great apple recipes in succession to celebrate our wonderful friend, the apple. I love apple season and the vast array of apple varieties and products that we can choose from this time of year. I like trios too and there are three reasons why I chose to make this dish. One, it completes the apple series. Two, the Mennonite Community Cookbook says it is "very old" and the older I get, the more respect I have for the aged treasures among us. Three, the last step in the recipe is to invert the baked product. Inversion is a lovely idea and one I have been attempting to practice.<br /><br />This dish was fun. I'm warning you though, it's a heavyweight in the sugar department. But it was awesome to make. My favorite part was the final step. After baking this creation, I slipped a knife around the edges, procured the largest platter in the house, and inverted. It was spectacular underneath. The apples neatly laid in a row, surrounded by soft crust with a brown sugar syrup oozing around it. "Come look" I yelled, "it's beautiful!" And delicious, delectable, and different, since we are honoring all things trinitarian. <br /><br />But back to inverting. When I am in a conflict, my husband advises me to try this. "Invert" he says, "always invert." This is engineer speak for trying to see things from another point of view. Sage advice. Before I criticize or grumble about someone I try to think how the situation might look from his/her perspective. What we find, when we invert, helps us grow and can give us pause, lest we judge. It is an intentional action, to turn our own thoughts upside-down. So, like my apple sponge dish, I can look at the part not readily seen and appreciate the view from another vantage point. We don't have to agree but we can try to understand. We might catch a glimpse of someone else's reality.<br /><br />Here is the very old recipe from the Mennonite Community Cookbook:<br /><br />6 medium apples, sliced<br />2 eggs, separated<br />1 cup sugar<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />1 tsp baking powder<br />1/2 cup water<br />1/2 cup water<br />1 tsp vanilla<br />2 T butter<br />1 1/2 cups brown sugar<br />Make batter by stirring together beaten egg yolks and sugar.<br />Mix dry ingredients together and add to the batter alternately with water and vanilla.<br />Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites.<br />Melt butter and brown sugar in the bottom of a glass 13x 9 pan.<br />Add sliced apples.<br />Pout batter over top of apples.<br />Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.<br />Run knife around outside edges and INVERT!<br />Serve with cream or ice cream.<br /><br />This recipe was adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).<br /><br />Wishing you some upside-down goodness,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-18527281654534903672010-09-23T17:13:00.000-07:002010-09-27T16:56:46.687-07:00Courage: Apple Pie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KEW3XXSbVn9cE764l7hECoZVyrrcCn16ZkM5Hu8m1UQZq87UCw9u4jJCFhT56v1fu-JiHqhKR_EZ1YKQmNkGFy_z9gBkUovKLgmOVQrbERCowE8W6L3g1k3IijsTLPZ1LlEi7DN8fpYs/s1600/pie+safe.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KEW3XXSbVn9cE764l7hECoZVyrrcCn16ZkM5Hu8m1UQZq87UCw9u4jJCFhT56v1fu-JiHqhKR_EZ1YKQmNkGFy_z9gBkUovKLgmOVQrbERCowE8W6L3g1k3IijsTLPZ1LlEi7DN8fpYs/s320/pie+safe.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520283326521128066" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMvm0s9GfaQQLRb4QtENfedIrG85anLx2LwJGH_norQBwPfYTB4GQjQV4ZJ-NddcdukmVZXX-PapQRVkDcZZnCoFxTk1XOM2BPc0_cdszRFiThVzTKCtieYFl9ecKtgvc2VhQ6yvhLKBN/s1600/apple+pie.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMvm0s9GfaQQLRb4QtENfedIrG85anLx2LwJGH_norQBwPfYTB4GQjQV4ZJ-NddcdukmVZXX-PapQRVkDcZZnCoFxTk1XOM2BPc0_cdszRFiThVzTKCtieYFl9ecKtgvc2VhQ6yvhLKBN/s320/apple+pie.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520283192081986306" /></a>
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<br />For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. T.S. Eliot
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<br /><em>This week I made a stalwart attempt to let go of two things: the need to have an excellent outcome and my problem with crust envy. In my most recent cooking adventure, there was an opportunity for the confluence of the two things that have thus far plagued my pie baking efforts.</em><em>First, I must confess something that I know my grandma full of grace, would forgive. I hope the same from those staunch pie bakers out there who would never dream of doing the deed I am about to uncover. For about the past 20 years, I have been purchasing pie crusts. I know. I love the idea of pie, the smell of pie, the taste of pie but I have been so afraid of the crust and the filling and getting it just right that I didn't dare to do both. I thought if I purchased a crust, I could focus on the filling and I would increase </em><em>the odds that I'd end up with a decent pie. Oh, I knew I was betraying the sisterhood and the brotherhood, possibly motherhood and the flag, but it seemed safer to me. I confess to being so jealous of those delicious flaky crusts that other people seemed to produce with nary a sign of stress. But now you know the truth that lies beneath my sweet fillings. And I suspect it really isn't a big deal to you. As my husband wisely tells me when I am in danger of losing perspective, "Honey, there are big problems in the world, and this isn't one of them." </em>
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<br /><em>Even so, it took some words of wisdom to grant me courage to make a whole pie bottom up from scratch. First the quote from Eliot. So wise about the true things in life, our vocations, our calling, our attempts to make a difference. "For us, there is only the trying"...I figured it could apply to pie as well. The second source came just last evening. Heidi Regier Kreider, my pastor, was talking with me about this blog and I shared my fears about how my pies turned out. She told me her family's motto: "Just get it in the pan any way you can". Freedom. I felt I had heard the gospel of pie baking.
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<br />So, this evening I came home from work and made a crust. I was sure that when I picked it up it would fall to pieces on my counter and I would be left with a jigsaw puzzle to solve (any way you can) but what do you know? It stayed together and acted like a crust should. I sliced the apples, mixed the crumb topping and baked it. I just pulled it from the oven. Call me sentimental but I went down and opened my antique pie safe and slid the hot pie right in there. I think it knew it was home.
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<br />Here is the crust and filling recipe I followed:
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<br />Pastry
<br />2 1/4 cups flour
<br />2/3 cup shortening
<br />1/2 tsp salt
<br />1/3 cup cold water
<br />Combine flour and salt in a mixing bowl. Cut shortening into flour with a pastry blender or two knives until particles are the size of small peas. Add water gradually, one tablespoon at at time. Toss (great choice of verbs) lightly with a fork until all particles are damp. Use only enough water to hold the pastry together when pressed between the fingers. It should not be wet. (I am so glad they told me that). Roll dough into a round ball, handling as little as possible. Roll out onto a lightly floured board into a circle. Put into pie plate and do something nice to the crust edges.
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<br />Filling
<br />6 tart apples (I used Braeburns)
<br />1 cup sugar
<br />1/3 cup butter
<br />3/4 cup flour
<br />1 tsp cinnamon
<br />Slice apples thinly. Mix 3/4 cup of the sugar and cinnamon together and sprinkle over apples. Put apple mixture into unbaked pie shell. Combine remaining sugar and flour. Add butter and rub together until crumbs are formed. Sprinkle fine crumbs over apples. Bake at 425 degrees for 10 minutes and then reduce oven to 350. Bake 35 minutes longer.
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<br />Courage,
<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-82744856047312508312010-09-19T14:01:00.000-07:002010-09-19T19:24:53.953-07:00Back to the Basics: Apple Dumplings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fFneb23sFQJ1f8kqnsROCQjKfR3kxgK3P4b-sfwCPG3uB9P9HJh_Cfhqe3hR14RQeAc0Ow7HPSAsQ_3c5qpQZE-aSq0EqUGa-bl5c09mqTixdJqkLlSPhlM-o_1rhjaKDK9LgBJMXeG7/s1600/mom.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fFneb23sFQJ1f8kqnsROCQjKfR3kxgK3P4b-sfwCPG3uB9P9HJh_Cfhqe3hR14RQeAc0Ow7HPSAsQ_3c5qpQZE-aSq0EqUGa-bl5c09mqTixdJqkLlSPhlM-o_1rhjaKDK9LgBJMXeG7/s320/mom.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518815319043697154" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH0ccqTIJj-ZQcNGGUyl4EcJ9ZfuDa9IaUsEdBxy6uJ-8ByvV1G10S_fzY6S9_ysHRo0W8K_3W2JvmzX3sX1ix10gKyeoLwa_dUds4VS4jSZkLw23wGS1jO7EaTMmNDdOKZPPQQdDJfzB/s1600/dumpling.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH0ccqTIJj-ZQcNGGUyl4EcJ9ZfuDa9IaUsEdBxy6uJ-8ByvV1G10S_fzY6S9_ysHRo0W8K_3W2JvmzX3sX1ix10gKyeoLwa_dUds4VS4jSZkLw23wGS1jO7EaTMmNDdOKZPPQQdDJfzB/s320/dumpling.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518815112769192850" /></a><br />A is for apple. This phrase often begins our formal education and is basic to the essential understanding of the complicated world of lexicons. Apple dumplings are a back to the basic food for me. I have a long history with the apple dumpling. This deliciously simple food graced our table many times. A warm, gently browned pan of fresh dumplings were often set on the table, a pitcher of milk as companion, for my family to eat. Apple dumplings are uncomplicated, easy on the stomach, and simply kind to the palate. <br /><br />Do you ever find yourself hungry again for the basics of life? Living and working in modern society, I admit to frequently feeling overwhelmed . Constant noise, blinking screens, beeping gadgets, and endless piles of papers overload my sensory system after a couple of hours. I yearn for stillness and solitude like someone in the dry desert thirsts for water. One of the unexpected outcomes of this cooking experience is discovering that peace of mind can be found in the kitchen. Who knew? Going back to the basics of my upbringing while working the dough, slicing the apples, and washing the dishes provides simpatico sensory experiences. I feel at home with these subtle sounds and smells. I feel they work with my spirit, not against it. The added benefit? Some pretty amazing food.<br /><br />The page in Grandma's cookbook where I found this recipe was stained and worn so my guess is, Grandma visited this page a lot. My Aunt Marion from Pennsylvania also turned out some wonderful apple dumplings and I recall that it made my Uncle Ed very happy when she did so. I had never made them so I asked mom if I could come over to her house to make a batch. I love it that I can still ask her to cook with me. She and I have always been compatible in the kitchen. Neither of us feels the need for idle chatter, we stay focused on the task but without urgency or stress. Like a great dance partner, mom reads my movements and know when she knows to lead with more certainty. She made the dough ahead of time and talked me through the process of peeling, coring, filling, and covering. It was like the old days when I was her best help. (At least she made me think I was!) The next night, my hungry husband and I made a meal of apple dumplings. He topped his with ice cream while I poured half and half over mine. Truly terrific, basically comforting, wonderfully tasting like <em>love</em>.<br /><br />Here is the recipe as we made them:<br />Apple Dumplings<br />Your favorite pie pastry for a two crust pie<br />8 apples, peeled and cored<br />1 cup brown sugar with 2 tsp of cinnamon added<br />Roll out pastry into squares. Set apple on top and spoon in the brown sugar and cinnamon mixture. Pat dough around apple to cover it completely. <br />Place apples 1 inch apart in buttered baking dish.<br />Just before baking mix together:<br />1/2 cup butter, melted<br />1/3 cup brown sugar<br />1 T cinnamon<br />Pour this mixture over the apple dumplings and bake at 375 degrees for 35-40 minutes.<br /><br />This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950). Thanks to my wonderful mother for her kind direction!<br /><br />Hoping you find peace in your kitchen,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-65607304125778549912010-09-15T18:23:00.000-07:002010-09-17T06:39:00.679-07:00Fall Colors: Sweet Potato Pudding<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nwCBtKS9WLlmoYYBw6f4NAusl7fgGaHGlgL7m1UBlhOoNGgzaKt7rlH0eatR-Y74Nvhf2kwSJPo3xIXE7-kUKZhYQhhByaG3huDvBn8KdR5FdQ278lYVMsqjY-_FySBzFrT1Bs6rlHyV/s1600/fall+things.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nwCBtKS9WLlmoYYBw6f4NAusl7fgGaHGlgL7m1UBlhOoNGgzaKt7rlH0eatR-Y74Nvhf2kwSJPo3xIXE7-kUKZhYQhhByaG3huDvBn8KdR5FdQ278lYVMsqjY-_FySBzFrT1Bs6rlHyV/s200/fall+things.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517710422699761394" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBumFGRN0cqtPM05MjjrPl-OneIxoT4tCX-67Pid2bRvos7QVcCHoTuILqnx5BguCn8pW4R_s_-EpQScpcsmrO3BS65ZIHF5ihfcevGnbZ3LU5GtquiUYkI-7cUvUgONyJMDMT5qCDH-Nv/s1600/sweet+potato+pudding.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBumFGRN0cqtPM05MjjrPl-OneIxoT4tCX-67Pid2bRvos7QVcCHoTuILqnx5BguCn8pW4R_s_-EpQScpcsmrO3BS65ZIHF5ihfcevGnbZ3LU5GtquiUYkI-7cUvUgONyJMDMT5qCDH-Nv/s200/sweet+potato+pudding.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517710274781340450" /></a><br />This is one of my favorite times of the year. Fall colors begin to come out, the weather cools and there are some new seasonal foods. Sweet potatoes can be found in the farmer's markets and I recently made a wonderful dish featuring the sweet potato. The sweet potato is both homely and beautiful, a little knobby, weathered in flesh tone, but warm in its appearance. Not unlike my midlife self. <br /><br />I wanted to submit an entry to a local holiday cookbook contest and the new category was a secret ingredient-ginger. I pondered on this challenge for a few weeks, trying to decide what I could do with ginger to create a new dish or alter an old one. So, where did I turn? Grandma's cookbook. I found a recipe there that interested me: Sweet Potato Pudding. So, I changed it up just a bit and the result was quite satisfactory. We ate this dish recently as we celebrated Grandparents' Day on Sunday. I served it with some grilled pork loins and a salad. It was really delicious and family members were complimentary. I didn't have marshmallows (having banned foods that are sparkling white from my kitchen!) so I put pecans on top. I liked that variation. This dish will be invited back for Thanksgiving dinner!<br /><br /><br /><br />Here it is:<br />Sweet Potato Pudding<br />2 1/2 cups mashed sweet potatoes<br />2 eggs<br />1 cup half and half<br />6 T sugar<br />1 tsp salt<br />1 tsp cinnamon<br />1 tsp ginger<br />2 T butter<br />Marshmallows or chopped pecans<br />Cook sweet potatoes with skins on until soft. Peel and mash. When well mashed, add sugar, salt, cinnamon, ginger, melted butter and half and half. Beat eggs well and add to mixture. Top with chopped pecans or marshmallows.<br />Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.<br />This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).<br /><br />Happy Fall,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-88645173036447215952010-09-08T18:35:00.000-07:002010-09-09T17:24:05.591-07:00Friends with the Soul : Hamburger Casserole<em>All that you have is your soul.</em> Tracy Chapman<br /><br />This line, one of my favorites, in a song entitled the same, talks of a woman who learned the hard way that you can love and live and try to hang on but when it comes right down to it, all that you have is your soul. When I heard this song, sung by Emmylou Harris in a beautiful venue in Colorado a few years ago, I felt as if I had found my theme song. Finding out that our birthing, creating and giving are a wonderful part of the journey, but not the journey, is when we grow up. When we realize that apart from our trappings, however fancy or plain they may be, all that we are and all that we have is our soul.<br /><br />Rather heavy subject this, and so is the casserole which I offer today. Perhaps that is what led me to the topic. I was thinking of a hearty dish which was suggested to me by a gracious person who attended the Kauffman Museum presentation in early August where we discussed favorites from the Mennonite Community Cookbook. She didn't speak up in the large session but as she went through the line, she told me, "The hamburger casserole on page 60 is one of my favorites." Impressed that she knew the page number, I wrote it down that day and determined to make it before my year of Mennonite cooking expired. Turns out my mom used to make this one and I ate it a few times as a youngster. I loved the mashed potatoes slightly moistened by the tomato soup. An atypical combination but it works. A complete meal in a casserole dish. A meal of substance and simplicity. A dish that can holds it own. You kind of get the idea that if this casserole met tofu on the street, it wouldn't back down. I love tofu but I gotta say, if we are talking about solid, mashed potatoes wins, hands down.<br /><br />But on this subject of soul I have been ruminating. I remember the many days I sat in a pediatrician's office waiting for a doctor or nurse to come and help me and one of my three children. One room contained a poster that said, <em>By all means, take some </em><em>time to be alone</em>. <em>See what your soul doth wear. </em>It had the word Anonymous written on it. I saw that poster over and over and every time I had the same two thoughts. First, who said that? It was so darn smart, deep and philosophical that someone ought to take credit for it. Second, Exactly! Bingo, Right on, Tell it. This was some good advice for young parents, for teenagers and for anyone who lives and breathes. Be friends with your soul.. listen to it... feed it. It is really, in the end, what you have. It's a long row to hoe, feeling one with your soul, but the most necessary gig we've got to show up for.<br /><br />While you are hoeing that row, here is a great casserole to sustain you.<br /><br />Hamburger Casserole: A One Dish Meal<br />1 large onion, minced<br />1 lb lean ground beef<br />1 lb cooked green beans<br />1 can of tomato soup<br />4 medium potatoes, diced and cooked<br />1/2 cup warm milk<br />1 beaten egg<br />1 tsp salt<br />1/2 tsp pepper<br />Brown onion and ground beef. Add beans and soup and mix together.<br />Pour into buttered baking dish.<br />Mash potatoes and add milk, egg and seasoning.<br />Put the mashed potatoes on top of meat mixture.<br />Bake in 350 oven for 30 minutes.<br /><br />By all means, take some time to be alone,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-7372506152743533902010-09-04T12:58:00.000-07:002010-09-05T17:04:26.697-07:00Knowing what you Need: Cinnamon Rolls<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqpLBjTGytJqScRZZcYKR0jpYRxaSGcOW0DKyGXJWm3paYGNw_GsAMY_Xl-L_-dYF8PTgcEwVHS5dFIyYV8hups5Ur0s1jvfQPfTj1TbcCOynsm8wKcM3Wc4YJBgZ553akQB7o283i_IB/s1600/cinammon+rolls.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqpLBjTGytJqScRZZcYKR0jpYRxaSGcOW0DKyGXJWm3paYGNw_GsAMY_Xl-L_-dYF8PTgcEwVHS5dFIyYV8hups5Ur0s1jvfQPfTj1TbcCOynsm8wKcM3Wc4YJBgZ553akQB7o283i_IB/s320/cinammon+rolls.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513158310780441570" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgh3QzdCVAVXJBbjsmT8OYrsvJJ1D5_B9oShqFLoAtdmDeYpU1Qu3u1V2acajDqBgXpfs0LHGZwMaPXjBRghVhhhVpCtHg3gPw_PLPBZVZxL3TkCEpHWW7kJKBcEjYLYTUh4G2YVaKovwk/s1600/sunflower.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgh3QzdCVAVXJBbjsmT8OYrsvJJ1D5_B9oShqFLoAtdmDeYpU1Qu3u1V2acajDqBgXpfs0LHGZwMaPXjBRghVhhhVpCtHg3gPw_PLPBZVZxL3TkCEpHWW7kJKBcEjYLYTUh4G2YVaKovwk/s320/sunflower.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513158300215553506" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8mI52OHIrtIf7QxtlfCVbhnsi2WCzkLFhWP69uws4t6qsx2yLDSOo27AGRbr3ljA_Lqj0F1Cc9tTykslIABvZwqBX-BXDt1acWgjyNT5L15JQVV626A0eGJCCWuKcNGv7HNPITiDqe1t/s1600/Sunday+afternoon.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8mI52OHIrtIf7QxtlfCVbhnsi2WCzkLFhWP69uws4t6qsx2yLDSOo27AGRbr3ljA_Lqj0F1Cc9tTykslIABvZwqBX-BXDt1acWgjyNT5L15JQVV626A0eGJCCWuKcNGv7HNPITiDqe1t/s320/Sunday+afternoon.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513158288205090450" /></a><br />These are a few of the things I need to keep my balance. Water, sunshine, homemade food and flower. Years ago, I heard a friend speak about individuals with disabilities and their need to have choices about what they wanted in their lives. Too many times, those choices are made for people who must be supported in the activities of daily life. Well-intentioned caregivers may assume they know best what a person who struggles with less than average cognitive ability might need or want. His point was that we all need to identify those things we need in our lives so that the crazy things others do don't scare us so much. When I feel as if I am reacting only to what others expect, when duty compels me to weariness, or when fear rather than love is driving my actions, I recall my friend's excellent advice. <br /><br />What puts the less in your fear? What makes you feel your feet are firmly planted, your nerve endings are covered and your eyes can stay wide open? It is different for all of us. But this Labor Day weekend, I am thinking less about labor and more about balance. I work well. I don't always take care of myself well. So, lately I am making time for that. I went to play in the water, to buy myself some flowers and I baked up an amazing batch of cinnamon rolls. And I ate them warm. I am feeling more balanced already.<br /><br />Here is the recipe for truly wonderful cinnamon rolls. It is adapted slightly from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).<br />1 cup scalded milk (I used 3/4 cup half and half and 1/4 cup 2% milk)<br />1 cup lukewarm water<br />2 packages of yeast<br />1/2 cup butter<br />1/2 cup sugar<br />1 1/2 tsp salt<br />2 eggs, beaten<br />6 -7 cups of flour (I used one cup whole wheat, the rest white flour)<br /><br />Scald milk and pour it over sugar, salt, and butter.<br />Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water.<br />Add beaten eggs.<br />When milk has cooled to lukewarm temperature, add the yeast and beaten eggs.<br />Beat well.<br />Add flour gradually, beating well.<br />Knead lightly, working in just enough flour so that dough can be handled (think soft and supple) easily.<br />Place dough in a buttered bowl, cover and let stand about 2 hours.<br /><br />Make into cinnamon rolls by rolling out dough into an oblong shape. about 1/4 inch thick. Spread with melted butter, sprinkle brown sugar mixed with cinnamon and add chopped pecans. Roll up like a jelly roll and slice. Lay down in a buttered pan. Let them rise for about one hour. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes.<br /><br />While still warm, frost with butter frosting:<br />3 T butter<br />2 T milk<br />powdered sugar to desired consistency<br /><br />Here's to knowing what you need,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-5420323174603462782010-08-29T16:38:00.000-07:002010-08-31T16:58:12.093-07:00While We Wait: Crullers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrOZ35aGtEb1W4QeO5DLu35Ly2aAoX8PDusHvh1r7CkXhJ4ogDmbLorGzO1tyUOBq0v_etV2FMejacLV3pQqvZ3mqst8LxKPFQftPcguGlSNghyphenhyphen6nkewHe94Nku8vfHPVnjWeXQmr8hsIW/s1600/final+crullers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrOZ35aGtEb1W4QeO5DLu35Ly2aAoX8PDusHvh1r7CkXhJ4ogDmbLorGzO1tyUOBq0v_etV2FMejacLV3pQqvZ3mqst8LxKPFQftPcguGlSNghyphenhyphen6nkewHe94Nku8vfHPVnjWeXQmr8hsIW/s320/final+crullers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510981409135314946" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4mw0vUb9-nTdM0Nd1nuqqGgH0YYFOMbw7Z33Lcf6trmKrpvTY7FhK8yUB8HBKd4GInVfKVqPjZSpzNd_vlwe5bUFTdtBWWJ0-k2eFBGiEKxLF8q0dE36sThxhTnRL2FX19COmrxsjhP1/s1600/DSC02961.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG4mw0vUb9-nTdM0Nd1nuqqGgH0YYFOMbw7Z33Lcf6trmKrpvTY7FhK8yUB8HBKd4GInVfKVqPjZSpzNd_vlwe5bUFTdtBWWJ0-k2eFBGiEKxLF8q0dE36sThxhTnRL2FX19COmrxsjhP1/s320/DSC02961.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510981287278809298" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoATczgwZf3EzEv8IlxmVgTibkGBfAXKISALOOURFkH0qe8LqZNBUU3k0-ghgeKHi2udFKWODhm0NSdsmIlnrciFGcnOUymo3JbhPcc34-nKyqr2dvMph1WQa13WBDlbbqzywN1TnBl-6b/s1600/DSC02959.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoATczgwZf3EzEv8IlxmVgTibkGBfAXKISALOOURFkH0qe8LqZNBUU3k0-ghgeKHi2udFKWODhm0NSdsmIlnrciFGcnOUymo3JbhPcc34-nKyqr2dvMph1WQa13WBDlbbqzywN1TnBl-6b/s320/DSC02959.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510980995889303506" /></a><br />It seemed necessary to observe a local tradition. Almost too late but I managed to squeeze it in, the winning combination of crullers and watermelon. This isn't a tradition I grew up with but I understand it is something of a constant at local summer afternoon picnics and other social gatherings. Must they be served in tandem? I honestly don't know but when the topic of crullers came up at a recent gathering of Mennonite feminine folk, I gathered that it could possible be a breach of etiquette if one didn't pair the dynamic duo. So, in anticipation of the cruller making event, I stopped and purchased a healthy looking, organically grown watermelon.<br /><br />The recipe says to make the dough and then let it sit for two hours. Why, I wondered? It doesn't need to rise. Maybe it just needs to wait. So I made the dough and waited for it to be ready and for my daughters to come and help me finish the process. This led me to some musings on the holy act of waiting.<br /><br /><em>Waiting for the dough, we say thank you for the anticipation of sweet bread.<br />Waiting for the train, we say thank you for the moment to rest.<br />Waiting for the diagnosis, we say thank you for every breath we take.<br />Wating for the pain to go away, we pause and remember the many others who suffer pain and we ask for healing.<br />Waiting for the sun to shine, we hope that our Chilean miner brothers will be brought to light quickly.<br />Wating for someone to change, we let go and realize we can only change ourselves and that is enough.<br />Waiting for peace, we look in the eyes of all we meet as we smile, because that is where peace begins.<br />Wating for those we love to come and visit, we say thank you for their sweet faces which brighten our days.</em><br /><br /><br />So, I waited and soon two of my daughters arrived to assist me with this project. I knew that crullers are deep fried (hmmm, state fair food?) so I anticipated that my daughter Amber with her affinity for funnel cakes, would enjoy these little golden offerings. She did and so did her sister Emily who usually frowns upon deep fried entrees. In fact, Emily did say, after 8-10 bites, "I can't stop!" She did of course, but they were particulary enticing warm, which you know if you have had occasion to have them just fresh. Eating some juicy watermelon alongside the cruller does provide a nice balance of heavy and light fare.<br /><br /><br />So, here is the recipe for crullers adaped slightly from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950)<br /><br />1/2 cup sour cream<br />1/2 cup half and half<br />2 eggs<br />1 tsp baking soda<br />1 tsp salt<br />1 tsp sugar<br />3 1/2 cups to 4 cups flour<br /><br />Beat eggs, add cream and milk. Sift dry ingredients together. Add to liquid. Use just enough flour so that dough can be rolled but is still soft. When well mixed, let it stand for 2 hours. <em>Here is where you wait.</em> <br />Roll out 3/8 inches thick and cut into oblong strips 2 x 7 inches. <br />Cut 2 slashes through strips crosswise to aid in frying.<br />Fry in deep fat until light brown on both sides.<br />Roll in powdered sugar.<br /><br />Serve with a big chunk of watermelon and know it was worth the wait!<br /><br />Enjoy,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-13264947978135392792010-08-22T16:14:00.000-07:002010-08-23T18:41:52.831-07:00Bake yourself a smile: Huckleberry Muffins<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZXTn87erJPsbWUfQ25Zj7A7DHix_WUd01xOIPkJ2N-EezG3-pEeYH3X8LqXAkGkn4eRV2iPMXzB_5lZg2ds4w9rK7krRRmSqY7oFdVra70S5sh2FOmN3guOvdan7U7wBmj410vqNISYc/s1600/huckleberry+muffin.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZXTn87erJPsbWUfQ25Zj7A7DHix_WUd01xOIPkJ2N-EezG3-pEeYH3X8LqXAkGkn4eRV2iPMXzB_5lZg2ds4w9rK7krRRmSqY7oFdVra70S5sh2FOmN3guOvdan7U7wBmj410vqNISYc/s200/huckleberry+muffin.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508784350159286066" /></a><br />The little round and precious huckleberry was unknown to me until this summer. I am a verdant and curious disciple of the Mennonite Community Cookbook and I found within two recipes calling for huckleberries. Do you know where I can get huckleberries? I asked my mom. Yes, she replied, I have some in the freezer. Well of course she did. This shouldn't have surprised me. Mom's freezer is kind of like Mary Poppins satchel, she opens it and pulls out all kinds of things that amaze and astound me. She said she bought them at the Kauffman Museum here in Newton, so they must be growing locally. She sent me home with a bag of them and I made some huckleberry muffins.<br /><br />The huckleberry isn't as sweet as its friend the blueberry. Still I liked it. There is room in my heart for almost anything that grows though so of course I would give it due respect. Besides its nice shape and growing prowess, there is the name. <em>Huckleberry</em>. Unlike some monikers, the word huckleberry does roll off the tongue. It is a playful word and fun to say. It suggests merriment and lightheartedness which we could all use a little bit of every day. So, I suggest you track down some huckleberries and bake yourself a smile. <br /><br />I used graham flour in these muffins and really liked the outcome. Here is my variation of the recipe in the Mennonite Community Cookbook.<br /><br />Huckleberry Muffins<br />2 cups flour (1 cup white flour, 1 cup graham flour)<br />4 tsp baking powder<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />2 T sugar<br />2 T honey<br />2 T melted butter<br />1 egg<br />1 cup milk<br />1 cup huckleberries <br /><br />Reserve 3 T of flour to dust the berries. To remaining flour add baking powder, salt, sugar and honey. <br />Add beaten egg and melted butter to milk and combine with dry ingredients.<br />Fold in berries that have been "dusted" with flour.<br />Drop by spoonfuls into greased muffin tins.<br />Bake at 400 for 25 minutes.<br /><br />Have fun with the huckleberries,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-19834406394754460202010-08-16T17:22:00.000-07:002010-08-19T17:08:55.256-07:00What We Want: Lemon Desire<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzNGx4yIbfpcwndPdA3mTN7kIC4ubSAlIpGN4IMVDORg53P5IotWiDm_JDbwY-_yd2rpFCEU9YfJ_4rYUW0_3sqdU82FARtFsYj3B8DsstrEgYhJ-OZDKyRuvYz8fnfNyLwbdq66KjqCb/s1600/Lemon+Desire.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzNGx4yIbfpcwndPdA3mTN7kIC4ubSAlIpGN4IMVDORg53P5IotWiDm_JDbwY-_yd2rpFCEU9YfJ_4rYUW0_3sqdU82FARtFsYj3B8DsstrEgYhJ-OZDKyRuvYz8fnfNyLwbdq66KjqCb/s320/Lemon+Desire.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506503300701593906" /></a><br />Well first, I know that several months ago in a blog entry I made disparaging remarks about dishes containing the wiggly, nutritionally null product <em>Jello</em>. And here I am today sharing a recipe containing this very item. I found a recipe in Grandma's small cursive written on a page of her cookbook. It is one of many recipes she added to her personal copy of the Mennonite Community Cookbook. This inquiry into Grandma's cooking adventures wouldn't be complete if I didn't explore some of the scrawled entries she deemed worthy of adding to her well-used cookbook.<br /><br />Besides, the name <em>Lemon Desire</em> led me to wonder. It didn't seem to fit the mostly practical or descriptive titles within the cookbook. I pondered where it may have come from. I tried to think of an occassion where I might have heard my grandma use the word <em>desire</em>. I can't think of one time. In fact, I can't even think of one time I heard her say she wanted something. I am sure she did. She just didn't seem to think much about what was missing from her life. She seemed rather, to be content with what was. What did she want? <br /><br />If I had to draw inferences from the life I observed, I'd say she wanted to see people treated with dignity and respect. I'd say she wanted to feel the sun on her face, to use her arms and legs to do good work and to walk humbly with God. That is what I think she wanted. Good food, good health, and the love of family were also likely on her list. I have to believe that she obtained those things in her life because from what I observed she didn't spend a lot of time chasing things that were just distractions. It is an example worth following.<br /><br />So, here it is. Lemon Desire. If you don't like lemon the name is an oxymoron. If you like lemon, you will likely find some pleasure in this sweet and light dessert. But the pleasure is temporary. What do we<em> really</em> want? I think I know now, what I really want. To be grateful, each moment, for being exactly where I am. <br /><br />Lemon Desire<br />1/2 cup sugar<br />1 pkg lemon jello<br />1 1/4 cup hot water for jello<br />2 or 3 T lemon juice and grated lemon rind<br />1 can evaporated milk, chilled<br />2 cups graham crackers, crushed<br /><br />Put 1/2 cups of graham crackers in a 9x9 pan. Make jello and chill until it starts to get firm. Whip evaporated milk and add juice and rind. Fold in jello. Pour on top of graham cracker crumbs. Sprinkle 1/2 cup crumbs on top. Chill until serving.<br /><br />Hoping you find your heart's desire,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-14189347236335767232010-08-10T14:39:00.000-07:002010-08-10T15:40:46.116-07:00Happy Endings: Elderberry Pie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRVZyoJn320gCfblE1oQ1FdTvIMu9wrvzB0bQ81JW1h25FPoOW9AJX-pe1N6I-3eIby-fjV1eBvKvLQ4d1_5Q1RTlSeFykEjOHTJvvFKtcqnOOowvgJe8bZWY_hxlojDfaaxfDX7eNpVkh/s1600/elderberries.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRVZyoJn320gCfblE1oQ1FdTvIMu9wrvzB0bQ81JW1h25FPoOW9AJX-pe1N6I-3eIby-fjV1eBvKvLQ4d1_5Q1RTlSeFykEjOHTJvvFKtcqnOOowvgJe8bZWY_hxlojDfaaxfDX7eNpVkh/s320/elderberries.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503914775174376162" /></a><br />Sometimes you really need a happy ending. You find yourself on a bad date or with a dentist's drill in your mouth doing overtime. Or you become entangled in a messy conflict and the skies are all cloudy and gray either outside or in your heart. What to do? Well, when we can keep an overactive ego in check or when we are gifted with that wonderful equalizer, <em>perspective,</em> we just enjoy the journey knowing that this is what it is all about. Sometimes, though, being human, we just bear down and hope for a surprising positive ending. I don't know about you but I seem to need a healthy dose of "it was all worth it" benedictions to keep me keeping on. So, even when the happy ending isn't there, I tend to invent it. You might know what I mean. <em>Well, I learned a lot...</em> <em>Someday, this will be a great story... Better to have </em><em>loved and lost...</em> The thing is, redemption is a powerful thing. All my favorite stories, fiction and non-fiction, have a common thread. That thread is a theme about the power of the human spirit rising above the muck and mire of difficult times and making her own happy ending.<br /><br />This is what I am thinking about today and it relates to what I was thinking about last week when I made the elderberry pie. This pie was recommended by the Muellers of North Newton. They even offered their own homegrown elderberries. I was a bit worried about this undertaking simply because I hadn't ever made one. Berneil kindly shared her baking tips and the recipe below reflects her adapted instructions as I carried them out to the best of my understanding. So, in my own mostly Mennonite kitchen, I baked this pie and pulled it from the oven. It looked a fright. I got the crust a bit too brown and it was really messy. I left it to cool on the stovetop. I asked my husband after a period of heavy silence. "Did you see my pie?" "Yes, he replied, "but I was kind of afraid to say anything. Might this be a redo?" I was afraid so. But alas, it cooled and settled down a bit and I even started to think the mostly filling covered crust and crumb topping looked good that way. I took a bite and it was (surprise) delicious. It was tangy but sweet and I loved the small crunchiness of the elderberries. Very good pie and for sure one I want to make again. In fact, every July, when the elderberries are plentiful, I want to make an elderberry pie. To celebrate happy endings.<br /><br />Elderberry Pie<br /><br />Filling<br />2 1/2 cups elderberrries<br />3/4 cup sugar<br />2 T flour<br />1/8 tsp salt<br />3 T lemon juice<br /><br />Pie pastry for 9 inch crust<br /><br />Crumb Topping<br />4 T flour<br />3 T sugar<br />2 T butter <br /><br /><br />Line a pie pan with pastry. Prebake at 425 for 8 minutes. Mix filling ingredients together and bring to a boil in a saucepan. (I let it cook for about 5 minutes or so). Pour cooked filling into prebaked crust. Mix crumb topping with two knifes until small crumbs are formed. Bake at 425 for another 10 minutes and then turn down the oven to 350 until the pie begins spilling over.This requires that you check it periodically. My pie did runneth over after 8 minutes I think. Remove from the oven and cool. <br /><br />Happy Endings,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-51089550019543034582010-08-04T17:11:00.000-07:002010-08-05T07:18:02.515-07:00Fascination: Pecan Squares<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXm_Z-m6TdRbX8UG7-Vblv-DE1iKi92yLm4BV9VdDsjZzvrGgly1YMNKTYK0WHPDjlReoTLv6aoj3SgjGnP_Ifim6wxjRsVI37hDcwldRJ_1QOWp3Hb8X_45BbaAOP4Keugi2TMQhVBxmI/s1600/pecans.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXm_Z-m6TdRbX8UG7-Vblv-DE1iKi92yLm4BV9VdDsjZzvrGgly1YMNKTYK0WHPDjlReoTLv6aoj3SgjGnP_Ifim6wxjRsVI37hDcwldRJ_1QOWp3Hb8X_45BbaAOP4Keugi2TMQhVBxmI/s200/pecans.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501928588927784770" /></a><br /><br /><strong>"The world fascinates me."</strong><br />Andy Warhol<br /><br />I love this quote and quite agree. The world fascinates me too. That's why I don't watch much TV or why often I just want to find out where others have been and what they think, know or remember. Wherever I go there is so much to see and hear that is illuminating. The world's inhabitants are fascinating creatures. Show me a room full of people and I see beauty and stories and lots of common threads. This was so true on Sunday at the Kauffman Museum. We gathered together to talk about memories and cooking and a very special book. <br /><br />People came for various reasons I believe. I know a few attended because they are related to me and I had asked them 6 times if they were coming! (thank you) Some came because they were curious about some aspect of the cooking/blogging/history part of it. But many came because of their memories of the <em>Mennonite Community </em><em>Cookbook</em>. Some folks came clutching this treasured cookbook, ready with page numbers of their favorite recipes. There were stories of receiving the book, traveling abroad with the book, cooking from it and knowing the author or illustrator. The stories told aloud to the larger group or to me personally after the program were each precious and rare. I loved hearing them. They are still trickling in with suggestions for recipes or offers of information and each one is like seeing a new star in the sky. Each shared experience is a story with meaning and a connection to a source of love or happiness. Keeping these stories alive is one way we give meaning to growing older I think. <br /><br />I made these pecan squares to share at this time on Sunday afternoon at the museum. It was a fascinating experience and the appreciation for the memories bubbled over and spilled out and made me eager to learn more. I have suggestions, new information and even some elderberries that will provide me with more cooking experiences to continue on this journey.<br /><br />Here is a recipe for some bars that were served at that gathering...<br /><br />Pecan Squares<br />1/3 cup butter<br />1/3 cup margarine<br />1 egg<br />2 cups flour<br />Topping:<br />1 egg<br />1/2 cup brown sugar<br />1 cup chopped pecans<br /><br />Cream butter, margarine and sugar together.<br />Add egg and beat until fluffy.<br />Add flour and work well into mixture.<br />Spread in a buttered 9 X 13 pan.<br />Beat remaining egg and spread over mixture with a brush. Spread the egg all the way to the edges of the dough.<br />Sprinkle with brown sugar and top with chopped nuts.<br />Bake at 350 for 25-27 minutes.<br />Cut into small squares.<br /><br />This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook. I confess, I had to make it twice, learning some things after the first time. So, my learned lessons are reflected in this adapted recipe. These are good, not the most memorable thing you may ever eat, but tasty and fairly efficient to make.<br /><br />Thanks for sharing in this fascinating journey,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-39223444515666389292010-07-30T09:11:00.001-07:002012-07-25T13:13:41.948-07:00Company for Dinner: Swiss Steak and Creamed Potatoes<br />
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This entry features two items which could easily be made for dinner guests. Part of the package of traditions that I inherited is that of having company for dinner. I remember many meals spent either at the homes of others or in our own home when we shared a meal with friends, relatives or out of town guests to whom we extended some homemade hospitality. I remember when we were the hosts, there would be a kind of buzz around the house. "What is going on?" one of my brothers or I might ask. "We are having company," would be the reply. Ah yes, of course. That explains the increase in noises and smells from the kitchen, the table extensions, the unfolding of the tablecloth. None of us were excused from the preparations and we knew that. We may be called upon to polish silver, scrub potatoes, cut flowers, or help set the table. <br />
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When we were the guests, there was preparation as well. Take a bath, wear clean clothes, comb your hair. On the way there... the manners discussion. Say please and thank you. Try everything. Ask to be excused and use, use, <em>use</em> your napkin. Any questions? "Yes" squeaked a voice from the backseat, "Do we have to eat spinach or liver if they have it?" Take a little and try it. Never say you don't like it, just say <em>no thank you</em> if you are offered more. These lessons in etiquette were delivered firmly but not unkindly by our parents when we were freshly scrubbed and earnestly hungry, a captive audience of three in the backseat. <br />
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The benefits of being guests and having guests for dinner are many: good food is shared, conversation can be enlightening and entertaining, and bonds develop or are strengthened around the table. We learn, we give, we are nourished in body and spirit. Recently, I was a guest along with my mother, at Cousin Elizabeth's house. She is a double cousin to my mother. I found out that this means that their mothers were sisters and their fathers were brothers. Cousin Elizabeth lives near Hutchinson now and recently invited my mom and I to enjoy lunch in her home. The food was homemade or homegrown and the joyful hospitality was wonderful. We shared stories new and old and a bit more of my Grandma Yutzy's personality was revealed to me through a story from Cousin Elizabeth. Just as I thought, Grandma was a spunky character. I left blessed and full, better from having had this visit and meal.<br />
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These recipes are two from the Mennonite Community Cookbook that I have made in the recent past for company dinners. <br />
Swiss Steak<br />
2 pounds round steak<br />
3 T oil<br />
1 1/2 tsp salt<br />
1 onion, sliced<br />
1/4 tsp pepper<br />
1/2 cup flour<br />
1 can mushroom soup diluted with 1 can milk<br />
Rub salt and pepper into steak and dredge with flour.<br />
Brown quickly on both sides in hot oil with the onions.<br />
Pour the mushroom soup mixed with milk over the top.<br />
Bake in a covered pan at 350 for 1 hour. <br />
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Creamed Potatoes with Parsley<br />
3 cups new potatoes<br />
1 tsp salt<br />
1/8 tsp pepper<br />
3/4 cup half and half<br />
2 T fresh parsley<br />
Cook potatoes in salt water until soft. Add cream, seasoning and chopped parsely and bring to a boil. <br />
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Both recipes are adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950) and have been tested on guests. They are polite people (having endured the manners talk) so of course they said they liked these dishes! I liked them too though and will likely make them again. <br />
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<br />Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2111743946566305235.post-91971676349384394752010-07-24T10:12:00.000-07:002010-07-24T10:44:55.695-07:00What you can hear : Fried Corn<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOCTYQPf0JR4sOn1QkxxNYTcz-nc8noX7uNR8Iz_lOy2HzsKX6PSodhVUgIa2xHPtopHwACFibSc6meq4tuJlyjo1hKcSYZ0stL3nBkGDIC03Gc2vrUtld7Ut1tDxsPA3_ev1Yij0p1n3/s1600/fried+corn.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOCTYQPf0JR4sOn1QkxxNYTcz-nc8noX7uNR8Iz_lOy2HzsKX6PSodhVUgIa2xHPtopHwACFibSc6meq4tuJlyjo1hKcSYZ0stL3nBkGDIC03Gc2vrUtld7Ut1tDxsPA3_ev1Yij0p1n3/s320/fried+corn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497530166554421058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSy8COqv0Zh2HofRW_YiiFekY6bv1dg2FLKxxLb7kzJ38dXHn2DuzYXz5tXqGRzugn9TS2ce8jYCeGrn4InrrUKmVRI1dtten15AQ2WouAGzJszZShcaXLytcTB1ge2_SJi1QJA9w2a2aC/s1600/fried+corn+recipes.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSy8COqv0Zh2HofRW_YiiFekY6bv1dg2FLKxxLb7kzJ38dXHn2DuzYXz5tXqGRzugn9TS2ce8jYCeGrn4InrrUKmVRI1dtten15AQ2WouAGzJszZShcaXLytcTB1ge2_SJi1QJA9w2a2aC/s320/fried+corn+recipes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497529668013576930" /></a><br />There were railroad tracks close by grandparent's house in Ohio. When we would go visit Grandma and Grandpa, trains would often stir me awake during the night. I was somewhat fascinated as well intimidated by the trains and I wanted to watch them whenever I could. I wanted to get close, but not too close. I remember one time I went somewhere with Grandma, and rather than drive, she suggested we walk. Our path? The railroad track. "Grandma, isn't this dangerous?" I'd ask. "What if a train comes?" She would tell me that she had good ears and that she would hear a train in plenty of time to keep me safe. She had learned to listen for faraway sounds that announced the impending arrival of a train.<br /><br />Listening is, I believe, an acquired skill. On this cooking journey, I am often alone in my kitchen. Rather than turn on music or let myself fret about the day's schedule or latest challenge, I intentionally quiet the room and try to turn off my own thoughts. I want to hear what comes. What memory, what wisdom. I want to hear the corn sizzling in the pan, to hear the soft patter of my hands on the bread dough. I want to learn to listen and to be present. It is a wonderful time that restores my soul and keeps me from getting lost in the world. Memories are my companion, new perspectives my guide. <br /><br />As I made fried corn today, I listened for what would come. The memory of Grandma promising to listen so that I would be safe is what I heard (besides the great sounds coming from the pan)and remembered. For this recipe, I took ideas from two recipes found in the cookbook and came up with something I found very enjoyable to eat. If corn is plentiful for you right now or it's just too difficult to eat on the cob, you might enjoy this variation. <br /><br />Fried Corn<br />2 cups corn, cut from the cob<br />3 T butter(make it real!)<br />2 green onions<br />2 eggs<br />1 1/2 T flour<br />3/4 tsp salt<br />2/3 cup half and half or whole milk<br />Heat butter in a skillet. Add the corn and green onions and stir over moderate heat. Keep turning the corn so it doesn't burn. <br />Beat eggs and add flour, salt, and half and half.<br />When the corn begins to brown, add the egg mixture. Simmer slowly until mixture becomes thick.<br /><br />This recipe is adapted from recipes found in The Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).<br /><br />Enjoy,<br />~Ellen~Ellenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333246195659060506noreply@blogger.com2