A Year of Mennonite Cooking

Every Detail: Christmas Pie

2011-12-28T08:43:00.000-08:00

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Christmas Pie
Make pastry shell for a 9 inch pie. Bake as directed.

For the filling:
Soften 1 T gelatin in 1/4 cup cold water.
Mix together in saucepan:
1/2 cup sugar
4 T flour
1/2 tsp salt
Gradually stir in 1 1/2 cups milk.

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.

Gently fold in 1/2 cup whipping cream that has been whipped until stiff.

Make a meringue by add 1/4 tsp cream of tartar to 3 egg whites. Gradually add 1/2 cup sugar until it peaks.
Stir in 1 cup moist shredded coconut.
Pour into cooled baked pie shell. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup coconut. Chill until firm.

This recipe adapted from the Betty Crocker cookbook.

"How sweet it is!"

Cinnamon Flop and Going Back

2011-08-16T18:39:00.000-07:00

"We have to allow ourselves to be loved by the people who really love us, the people who really matter... "

C. Joybell C.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Here is the recipe as I made it this afternoon.

2 cups cake flour
3/4 cup sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup butter
1 egg
1 cup milk

Mix dry ingredients together. Using two knives cut into shortening until the mixture is in fine crumbs.
Beat egg and add milk.
Add milk and egg gradually to dry ingredients until thoroughly mixed.
Put mixture into a greased 9 or 10 inch pie late.
Mix 1/3 cup melted butter, 3/4 cup brown sugar and 1 tsp of cinnamon. Sprinkle this mixture on top of the batter.
Bake at 375 degrees for 25-30 minutes.

This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).
Cinnamon flop. Sweet, cinnamon topped, densely delicious.

Urging you to reconnect with the love in your past,
~Ellen~

Some final thoughts: Sand Tarts or Saint Hearts

2010-12-08T14:59:00.000-08:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

I offer you now, and finally, the recipe for Sand Tarts or Saint Hearts adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

1 cup shortening (I used one stick of butter, 1 stick of margarine)
2 cups sugar
3 eggs
3 1/2 to 4 cups of flour
1 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
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.
Place on greased cookie sheets.
Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes.

Thank you so much for reading.
I wish you peace,
~Ellen ~

How Sweet It Is: Pumpkin Ice Cream Pie

2010-11-24T05:38:00.000-08:00

"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.

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. Glory Be.

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.

Pumpkin Ice Cream Pie

1 cup pumpkin
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1 qt ice cream

Mix above ingredients and pour into graham cracker crust. Freeze until 20 minutes before serving.

With a grateful heart,
~Ellen~

Happy Happy Birthday: Whoopie Pies

2010-11-10T18:35:00.001-08:00

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.

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.

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.

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, Goodnight Moon. Do you want me to read it to you?" I miss dyeing Easter eggs, trick or treating, driving the carpool.

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.

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.

And now, the recipe for Whoopie Pies:
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup margarine
1 egg
2 cups flour
1/2 cup baking cocoa
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup sour milk
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup hot water
Cream sugar and margarine. Add egg. Sift together flour, cocoa, and salt. Add to creamed mixture alternately with sour milk. Add vanilla.
Dissolve soda in hot water and add last. Mix well.
Drop by rounded teaspoonful onto greased cookie sheet. Bake at 400 for 9 minutes.
Fill with your favorite vanilla frosting.

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.

Happy celebrating,
~Ellen~

For all the Saints: Ellen's Cookies

2010-10-31T13:00:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

So, with reverence for the old and gratefulness for the new, I offer you my special cookie recipe. I hope you like them!

Ellen's cookies
10 T margarine
1/2 cup smooth organic peanut butter
2/3 cup white sugar
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 T pure vanilla

Mix all these ingredients until smooth.

Add 2 eggs and continue mixing.

2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

Mix dry ingredients into above mixture. When well blended, add 1 cup chocolate chips and 3/4 cup M&M candies.

Bake at 375 degrees for 10-12 minutes. These are so delicious right from the oven!

Happy All Saints Day!
~Ellen~

Not Talking Turkey: Mock Turkey

2010-10-24T13:59:00.000-07:00

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.

Thinking turkey and making mock turkey led me to think of the phrase talking turkey 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.

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. 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 food if you need it. Ellen? Ellen? Where are you from Ellen? North Newton, sir. Ahh Ellen, do you believe in our wonderful, sweet, sweet Jesus, Ellen? Yes, yes I do. Why Ellen, why, do you believe in our wonderful sweet, loving Jesus? Well... (because answered prayers are the only thing keeping me from going over the edge didn't seem like a good response) ...because He 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 would just like to help in some way. Ahhh, Ellen, can you give a testimony? We need a testimony. 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 really just want to serve some turkey. Well, Ellen what we need is a TESTIMONY! I am not just TALKING TURKEY here, Can you give us a real Jesus testimony? That is what people need- a TESTIMONY! ( I am starting to think I will just stay home on Thanksgiving.) 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? Well, Ellen we really need some testimonies but I suppose you could just bring a potato dish. (Clearly, he was disappointed.) Okay, thank you Reverend, goodbye. 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.

So, I share with you now the recipe for mock turkey... perhaps for times when you aren't talking turkey!

1 loaf stale bread
1 quart milk
1 carrot, grated
1 onion, minced
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 tsp salt
1 dash of pepper
1 lb ground sausage
1 tsp poulty seasoning

Remove crust from load of bread;tear apart and moisten with milk. Add meat, chopped vegetables and seasoning.
Mix together well and place in a buttered baking dish. (9x13 is about right)
Bake at 350 for 1 and 1/2 hours.

This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Take good care,
~Ellen~

The Mennonite tries Methodist: Chicken and Noodles

2010-10-16T13:03:00.000-07:00

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 turn out 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.

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.

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.

Here is the recipe I used. It is modified from the Mennonite Community Cookbook.

Chicken and Noodles
1 plump locally raised chicken
1 lb package of noodles (I prefer the ones that say Amish on the package!)
1 1/2 tsp salt
4 T butter
4 T flour
2 cups milk
3 cups chicken broth

Cook chicken in water until tender and remove meat from the bones. Cut into pieces.
Boil noodles in salt water according to package directions.
Drain the noodles with warm water.
Make a thin white sauce with the butter, flour and milk.
Add chopped chicken and noodles to broth. Stir in white sauce. Salt and pepper to taste.

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.

Peace,
~Ellen~

I Like These: Sourdough Apple Wheat Rolls

2010-10-09T16:42:00.000-07:00

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: I like these rolls. 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.

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!

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.

Sourdough Apple Wheat Rolls
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.

Blessings,
~Ellen~

Learning to Invert: Apple Sponge Pudding

2010-09-30T17:31:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

Here is the very old recipe from the Mennonite Community Cookbook:

6 medium apples, sliced
2 eggs, separated
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup water
1 tsp vanilla
2 T butter
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
Make batter by stirring together beaten egg yolks and sugar.
Mix dry ingredients together and add to the batter alternately with water and vanilla.
Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites.
Melt butter and brown sugar in the bottom of a glass 13x 9 pan.
Add sliced apples.
Pout batter over top of apples.
Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.
Run knife around outside edges and INVERT!
Serve with cream or ice cream.

This recipe was adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Wishing you some upside-down goodness,
~Ellen~

Courage: Apple Pie

2010-09-23T17:13:00.000-07:00

For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. T.S. Eliot

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.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 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."

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.

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.

Here is the crust and filling recipe I followed:

Pastry
2 1/4 cups flour
2/3 cup shortening
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup cold water
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.

Filling
6 tart apples (I used Braeburns)
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter
3/4 cup flour
1 tsp cinnamon
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.

Courage,
~Ellen~

Back to the Basics: Apple Dumplings

2010-09-19T14:01:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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 love.

Here is the recipe as we made them:
Apple Dumplings
Your favorite pie pastry for a two crust pie
8 apples, peeled and cored
1 cup brown sugar with 2 tsp of cinnamon added
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.
Place apples 1 inch apart in buttered baking dish.
Just before baking mix together:
1/2 cup butter, melted
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 T cinnamon
Pour this mixture over the apple dumplings and bake at 375 degrees for 35-40 minutes.

This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950). Thanks to my wonderful mother for her kind direction!

Hoping you find peace in your kitchen,
~Ellen~

Fall Colors: Sweet Potato Pudding

2010-09-15T18:23:00.000-07:00

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.

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!

Here it is:
Sweet Potato Pudding
2 1/2 cups mashed sweet potatoes
2 eggs
1 cup half and half
6 T sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ginger
2 T butter
Marshmallows or chopped pecans
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.
Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.
This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Happy Fall,
~Ellen~

Friends with the Soul : Hamburger Casserole

2010-09-08T18:35:00.000-07:00
All that you have is your soul. Tracy Chapman

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.

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.

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, By all means, take some time to be alone. See what your soul doth wear. 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.

While you are hoeing that row, here is a great casserole to sustain you.

Hamburger Casserole: A One Dish Meal
1 large onion, minced
1 lb lean ground beef
1 lb cooked green beans
1 can of tomato soup
4 medium potatoes, diced and cooked
1/2 cup warm milk
1 beaten egg
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
Brown onion and ground beef. Add beans and soup and mix together.
Pour into buttered baking dish.
Mash potatoes and add milk, egg and seasoning.
Put the mashed potatoes on top of meat mixture.
Bake in 350 oven for 30 minutes.

By all means, take some time to be alone,
~Ellen~

Knowing what you Need: Cinnamon Rolls

2010-09-04T12:58:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

Here is the recipe for truly wonderful cinnamon rolls. It is adapted slightly from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).
1 cup scalded milk (I used 3/4 cup half and half and 1/4 cup 2% milk)
1 cup lukewarm water
2 packages of yeast
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs, beaten
6 -7 cups of flour (I used one cup whole wheat, the rest white flour)

Scald milk and pour it over sugar, salt, and butter.
Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water.
Add beaten eggs.
When milk has cooled to lukewarm temperature, add the yeast and beaten eggs.
Beat well.
Add flour gradually, beating well.
Knead lightly, working in just enough flour so that dough can be handled (think soft and supple) easily.
Place dough in a buttered bowl, cover and let stand about 2 hours.

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.

While still warm, frost with butter frosting:
3 T butter
2 T milk
powdered sugar to desired consistency

Here's to knowing what you need,
~Ellen~

While We Wait: Crullers

2010-08-29T16:38:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

Waiting for the dough, we say thank you for the anticipation of sweet bread.
Waiting for the train, we say thank you for the moment to rest.
Waiting for the diagnosis, we say thank you for every breath we take.
Wating for the pain to go away, we pause and remember the many others who suffer pain and we ask for healing.
Waiting for the sun to shine, we hope that our Chilean miner brothers will be brought to light quickly.
Wating for someone to change, we let go and realize we can only change ourselves and that is enough.
Waiting for peace, we look in the eyes of all we meet as we smile, because that is where peace begins.
Wating for those we love to come and visit, we say thank you for their sweet faces which brighten our days.

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.

So, here is the recipe for crullers adaped slightly from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950)

1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup half and half
2 eggs
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
3 1/2 cups to 4 cups flour

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. Here is where you wait.
Roll out 3/8 inches thick and cut into oblong strips 2 x 7 inches.
Cut 2 slashes through strips crosswise to aid in frying.
Fry in deep fat until light brown on both sides.
Roll in powdered sugar.

Serve with a big chunk of watermelon and know it was worth the wait!

Enjoy,
~Ellen~

Bake yourself a smile: Huckleberry Muffins

2010-08-22T16:14:00.000-07:00

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.

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. Huckleberry. 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.

I used graham flour in these muffins and really liked the outcome. Here is my variation of the recipe in the Mennonite Community Cookbook.

Huckleberry Muffins
2 cups flour (1 cup white flour, 1 cup graham flour)
4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 T sugar
2 T honey
2 T melted butter
1 egg
1 cup milk
1 cup huckleberries

Reserve 3 T of flour to dust the berries. To remaining flour add baking powder, salt, sugar and honey.
Add beaten egg and melted butter to milk and combine with dry ingredients.
Fold in berries that have been "dusted" with flour.
Drop by spoonfuls into greased muffin tins.
Bake at 400 for 25 minutes.

Have fun with the huckleberries,
~Ellen~

What We Want: Lemon Desire

2010-08-16T17:22:00.000-07:00

Well first, I know that several months ago in a blog entry I made disparaging remarks about dishes containing the wiggly, nutritionally null product Jello. 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.

Besides, the name Lemon Desire 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 desire. 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?

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.

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 really want? I think I know now, what I really want. To be grateful, each moment, for being exactly where I am.

Lemon Desire
1/2 cup sugar
1 pkg lemon jello
1 1/4 cup hot water for jello
2 or 3 T lemon juice and grated lemon rind
1 can evaporated milk, chilled
2 cups graham crackers, crushed

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.

Hoping you find your heart's desire,
~Ellen~

Happy Endings: Elderberry Pie

2010-08-10T14:39:00.000-07:00

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, perspective, 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. Well, I learned a lot... Someday, this will be a great story... Better to have loved and lost... 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.

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.

Elderberry Pie

Filling
2 1/2 cups elderberrries
3/4 cup sugar
2 T flour
1/8 tsp salt
3 T lemon juice

Pie pastry for 9 inch crust

Crumb Topping
4 T flour
3 T sugar
2 T butter

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.

Happy Endings,
~Ellen~

Fascination: Pecan Squares

2010-08-04T17:11:00.000-07:00

"The world fascinates me."
Andy Warhol

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.

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 Mennonite Community Cookbook. 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.

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.

Here is a recipe for some bars that were served at that gathering...

Pecan Squares
1/3 cup butter
1/3 cup margarine
1 egg
2 cups flour
Topping:
1 egg
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup chopped pecans

Cream butter, margarine and sugar together.
Add egg and beat until fluffy.
Add flour and work well into mixture.
Spread in a buttered 9 X 13 pan.
Beat remaining egg and spread over mixture with a brush. Spread the egg all the way to the edges of the dough.
Sprinkle with brown sugar and top with chopped nuts.
Bake at 350 for 25-27 minutes.
Cut into small squares.

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.

Thanks for sharing in this fascinating journey,
~Ellen~

Company for Dinner: Swiss Steak and Creamed Potatoes

2010-07-30T09:11:00.001-07:00

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.

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, use 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 no thank you 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.

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.

These recipes are two from the Mennonite Community Cookbook that I have made in the recent past for company dinners.
Swiss Steak
2 pounds round steak
3 T oil
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 onion, sliced
1/4 tsp pepper
1/2 cup flour
1 can mushroom soup diluted with 1 can milk
Rub salt and pepper into steak and dredge with flour.
Brown quickly on both sides in hot oil with the onions.
Pour the mushroom soup mixed with milk over the top.
Bake in a covered pan at 350 for 1 hour.

Creamed Potatoes with Parsley
3 cups new potatoes
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
3/4 cup half and half
2 T fresh parsley
Cook potatoes in salt water until soft. Add cream, seasoning and chopped parsely and bring to a boil.

Both recipes are adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950) and have been tested on guests. They are polite people (having had the manners talk) so of course they said they liked these dishes! I liked them too though and will likely make them again.

In fellowship,
~Ellen~

What you can hear : Fried Corn

2010-07-24T10:12:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

Fried Corn
2 cups corn, cut from the cob
3 T butter(make it real!)
2 green onions
2 eggs
1 1/2 T flour
3/4 tsp salt
2/3 cup half and half or whole milk
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.
Beat eggs and add flour, salt, and half and half.
When the corn begins to brown, add the egg mixture. Simmer slowly until mixture becomes thick.

This recipe is adapted from recipes found in The Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Enjoy,
~Ellen~

Out on the Ocean with God: Buttercup Cake

2010-07-14T11:15:00.000-07:00

My birthday was a week ago and so my mom baked a cake while the family was assembled for the wedding of my daughter. We celebrated as we usually do in our family on special occasions, with homemade ice cream. My parents still hand crank a wonderful freezer of ice cream. My mother found a cake recipe from the Mennonite Community Cookbook that she brought along to wish me well on my last 40-something birthday. Which means I am looking 50 straight in the eyes! With no fear or trembling on my part, I might add. I am grateful for life and health and a body that still works on my behalf. It bends, lifts, runs (if it has to) and houses my spirit which is, I believe, getting stronger with age.

When my family celebrates my birthday, we always reminisce about a declaration I made when I was a young one. "Before I was born," I would state resolutely, "I was out on the ocean with God." I was totally convinced of this, still am actually. I don't know what led to this formulation of thought or how I knew or if it contradicted any theological beliefs I was taught. I do know that I liked telling my family that before they were honored with my presence, I had been in some pretty awesome company. I also enjoyed the thought that I had been somewhere beautiful and calm and natural. As I grow older, I am still calmed by water in natural places.

I do seek those places where God seems only a whisper away. I have felt a holy presence in an airport, classroom or sanctuary but it takes more of a conscious effort. When looking at a vast expanse of water, hearing the wind move over the water and through the trees, and seeing the dappled light on the surface, I believe that we, along with the rest of the natural world, were born from a creative and loving source of life. For me, connecting to that source, is what breathes new life into old veins, damaged cells, and fragmented thoughts.

When we celebrate it is fun to hear stories around our birth. This is one my family tells and it always makes me smile. Because before I was born, I was out on the ocean with God. Part of me still is.

Buttercup Cake
1/2 cup shortening
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 cup buttermilk or sour milk
2 eggs
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/3 cups cake flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla or 1/2 tsp each of lemon, orange, and almond extract
Cream shortening and add sugar gradually. When mixture is fluffy, add well beaten eggs and beat thoroughly. Sift flour; measure and add salt, baking powder and soda. Sift again. Add dry ingredients alternately with milk and flavoring. Beat thoroughly after each addition. Pour into greased layer pans.
Bake at 350 for 30 to 35 minutes.

This recipe is from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Peace,
~Ellen~

Delicious Reverie: Peach Skillet Pie

2010-07-10T08:13:00.000-07:00

This is a wonderful way to use peaches which are in season right now. I have found that the peach has a very small window of opportunity when it is just perfect for eating. Our neighbors brought over some freshly picked peaches that were just right that day. We didn't get to them all in time so I flipped open the cookbook and found a great recipe for peach skillet pie. It was, no kidding, delicious. Really good. In fact, we liked it so much, I made another one again today.

We ate it warm, with half and half poured over the top and listened to each other making those happy noises that escape our lips when we are caught in eating reverie.

Here is the recipe. I heartily endorse this selection. I didn't have a skillet that I can bake in (that's on my kitchen wish list though) so I just used a pie plate. I am not artful with dough so it was a bit patched together but no matter. The taste more than made up for the presentation.

Peach Skillet Pie
2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
4 tsp baking powder
1/3 cup shortening
1/3 to 1/2 cup milk (I used half and half)
8 fresh peaches

Add salt and baking powder to two cups of flour. Sift.
Cut in shortening as for pastry.
Add milk all at once, just enough to make a soft dough. Turn the dough onto a floured dough and roll 1/4 inch thick and several inches larger in diameter than the skillet used. Place dough in the bottom of the skillet and let the edges hang over. Then fill with the ripe sliced peaches. Sprinkle 3/4 cup sugar and 1/2 tsp cinnamon over the peaches.
Dot with butter.
Fold edges back toward center to partially cover.
Leave center of pie uncovered.
Bake at 400 for 25-30 minutes.
Serve warm with rich milk.

This recipe was adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Enjoy,
~Ellen~

A nuttiness all our own: Chocolate Surprise

2010-07-01T16:29:00.000-07:00

The suprise is kind of about the nuts. No, actually it is all about the nuts. The collectivity of family gatherings spawns laughter and nuttiness unique to the gene pools and years of traditions which we claim as ours. This past week was my daughter's wedding, a lovely celebration of love and commitment. We were so lucky to have so much family around which made it all the more memorable. We ate, laughed, danced, took walks, and shared memories. We also made a few new memories.

In anticipation of my family's arrival I pored over the pages of grandma's cookbook for a recipe that would be light, sweet, and welcoming. I found "Chocolate Surprise." Always game for a surprise, I thought I'd try it. I like it, no surprise as almost anything chocolate is a friend of mine. It contains nuts and graham cracker crumbs. It is easy to make and it gets quite thick rather quickly. It is somewhere between pudding and mousse. I ventured to guess that my brother, Karl, himself rather nuts in the very best way possible, would like it. And he did.

Families are wonderful and it is the nutty times we treasure. Anne Lamott, commenting on family times, said that "things go wrong every time we visit. But more things go right.' I love that. So, over the course of events I pledged to enjoy the unique nuttiness of each family member and to let my own special brand of nuttiness show. I vowed to realize that it can be good and fun to be together if not perfect or spotless or completely organized. Each person is a gift and each so surprisingly special. The amalgam of Herr/ Awe/ Vogts/ McElhiney/ Metcalf is ours now and we treasure them every one. I am deeply greatful to be part of a clan that celebrates, laughs, and remembers that we are all of us, connected, to each other and to the world.

Chocolate Surprise
1 cup sugar
3 T cocoa
3 T cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup half and half
1 cup milk
3 eggs, beaten
3 T butter
6 graham crackers
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup chopped pecans
Combine sugar, cocoa, cornstarch and salt.
Add mixture to beaten eggs and mix thoroughly.
Add to scalded milk and cook until smooth and thickened, stirring constantly.
Remove from heat and add butter, vanilla, graham cracker crumbs, and chopped nuts.
Chill until firm.
Serve with whipped cream.

This recipe was adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950)

With gratefulness for the love of family,
~Ellen~

Thoughts of Home and Zucchini Muffins

2010-06-25T13:32:00.000-07:00

The graceful zucchini is ubiquitous this time of year, dangling from sprawling plants in gardens and piled high on the tables at the farmer's market. Glad am I, that they are plentiful. Like their other vegetable friends, zucchini can be eaten raw or cooked. I find zucchini desirable almost any way you serve it but I really really like zucchini muffins. This recipe isn't one that I found in the Mennonite Community Cookbook. In fact, the only thing listed under Z in the index of that collection of recipes is zwiebach. The recipe I share now is adapted slightly from my mom's zucchini bread recipe. I know that if Grandma had tasted this bread, she would have scrawled the recipe in the hallowed pages of her best coookbook.

A few things in this world serve as the most salient reminders of home. Zucchini bread is one such item to me. Mom made it many times and it is on the short list of never fail comfort foods. When it is baking, it has a warm cinnamon aroma that stirs my senses and makes me think of my mom's various kitchens. Home, essentially having one, has been in the front of my consciousness this past week. The colors and smells of every place I have been fortunate enough to call home are in the deep recesses of my memory, easily triggered by a smell or a sound.

Homes should be sacred spaces. Homes are where we are wanted and loved. Homes can also be complicated and crazy. Sometimes people have to call more than one venue home. Divorce can be like a blunt instrument to the heart of those who go through it and the children of divorced families can tell you that when they switch homes, they also switch loyalties, paradigms, and expectations. It is difficult even in the best of circumstances. There is so much associated with our experiences of home and to be asked to make that adjustment requires that some time, care,and understanding be extended to the mobile child. When I help my daughter pack her bags, carry them to her car and hug her goodbye there is always some sadness for me. She is eager to go share life at her dad's house and she has people who love her there but she has to make a switch and it hurts. For children of divorce, a home can be a good place but it can also be a place where they always miss somebody.

Sharing a home is something of an extended forgiveness boot camp because we show our worst and most petty issues to those who live with us. Family members sometimes need us when we are tired or sick or overwhelmed. Sometimes we rise and bless and sometimes we fail. To keep our homes a place where all living things can grow, we must be sure there is plenty of light and water both literally and figuratively. Kindess is light, laughter is water. Meals shared (warm zucchini muffins for example) are water.

I think too that we must remember that our heart is our home and perhaps some who live without a walls or roofs know that better than we do. There is a dignity in the human heart that cannot be taken away. There is a desire to give and to contribute that can come from those who have the great reserves of compassion and largesse that goes with them wherever they lay their heads. I have been the recipient of such graces from those in difficult living situations. At homeless shelters there is rejoicing when people are connected with resources to get a home. We rejoice when anyone, ourselves included, rise above restlessness and addictions and learn to be at home in our own hearts.

Here is the recipe for zucchini muffins:

3 eggs
1 cup canola oil
3/4 cup white sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup honey
2 cups grated zucchini
2 cups flour
1 T wheat germ
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla

Combine all ingredients. Pour into greased muffin tins. BAke at 325 for 20-25 minutes. Makes 18 muffins.

Hoping you are at home in your heart today,
~Ellen~

Vegetables from the Farmers' Market: Cucumber Salad times 2

2010-06-17T17:56:00.000-07:00

It is summer and here in my little town, that means the Farmers' Market is here. How I love to go, bag in hand, to the market to buy fresh vegetables. Presently, I am a girl without a garden. My little mint crop is flourishing and I have some nice blooming flowers, but no rows of green beans, corn, or onions grace my backyard. My husband and I tend my parent's garden when they are gone and reap the benefits even when they are not. When we moved into our present house, there was no garden plot but we do plan to change that because we find ourselves missing the benefits of growing and sowing.

If my mother taught me to find joy in the kitchen, my father taught me to find joy in the garden. There are so many memories of my dad planting, watering, and picking vegetables in his garden. He would beckon us, my brothers and I, from our play to come and help. I remember one summer when I was about 11, Dad walked me to a mysterious looking set of plants and said, "Here. This is your job this summer. Water these plants." "What are they?" I asked. "Rhubarb" he replied." I protested, "But I don't even like rhubarb." "That's okay, water it anyway." And so I did. The rhubarb flourished even under the reluctant beginnings of our relationship. As it grew, I developed a respect for its thick stalks and rosy color. When we finally harvested it, I was proud. I still didn't love the taste but after putting all that work into it, I for darn sure was going to partake! Smart man, my dad.

Last Saturday, I bought some lovely cucumbers from a local gardener. They looked so great on her stand reclining in a basket in fetal postions. I tried two recipes with them that I am going to share. One from Grandma's cookbook and one from a clipping I have from a magazine. They are both fantastic!

#1
Cucumber Salad (Russian) from the Mennonite Community Cookbook
1 quart thick sour milk or buttermilk (I mixed sour cream and half and half)
4 medium cucumbers
1 T salt
2 T vinegar
Pare and slice cucumbers into thin rings.
Sprinkle with 1 1/8 tsp salt and let stand 3 minutes
Beat sour milk with an egg beater until smooth.
Add vinegar and remaining salt.
Drain cucumbers and add to milk.

#2

Cucumbers with Oregano, Feta and Pine Nuts
1 shallot, minced
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 tsp salt
8 cucumbers peeled and sliced
3 sprigs fresh oregano, stems removed
1/2 cup feta cheese
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
black pepper
Combine shallot and vinegar in a small bowl. Let stand about 10 minutes. Add olive oil and salt, whisking well. Pour vinaigrette over cucumbers and toss well. Sprinkle with oregano, cheese and pine nuts. Season with black pepper.

Happy (fresh) Eating!
~Ellen~

Mennonite Food Revolution: Cream Waffles

2010-06-12T09:13:00.000-07:00

There is much ado, if one follows popular culture, about the new Food Revolution series. This series shares themes with a book by Michael Pollan, Food Rules as well as the documentary Food, Inc. These are old ideas with a new spin. Know what is in your food. Eat to live, not live to eat. Banish highly processed foods from your diet. Make room for green space on your table. Go ahead and eat mashed potatoes, gravy, and chicken strips. Just make them yourself.

Many Mennonites, and other healthy minded, sensible folks have been doing this for a long time. I have found the Mennonite Community Cookbook a treasure trove of delicious recipes made from healthy and simple ingredients. There is, to be sure, a lot of butter and cream used. Few recipes call for wheat flour. But the basics are there. Making good food ,with locally found ingredients and then savoring them at the family table. I take the liberty to make some substitutes: low fat cream, whole wheat flour, less salt and sugar when I can. I also think of quality, not quantity, when I shop, eat, and prepare. Less food, better taste!

The cream waffles my husband and I enjoyed this balmy morning are from Grandma's cookbook. They are wonderful. We topped them with organic peanut butter and syrup and enjoyed them in their sticky glory. They are easy to mix and make and I had all the ingredients already in the house.

Cream Waffles
2 cups flour (1 cup white, 1 cup whole wheat)
1/2 cup thick sour cream
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
2 eggs, separated

Mix dry ingredients together.
Beat egg yolks and add milk and cream.
combine with dry ingredients.
Fold in stiffly beaten eggg whites.
Makes 6 waffles.

This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950)

Thoroughly enjoying my Mennonite Food Revolution,
~Ellen~

Food Rules
Michael Pollan (2009)
Food, Inc.
Robert Kenner, Director (2008)

Knocking on Heaven's Door: Icebox Cheesecake

2010-06-01T17:24:00.000-07:00

In celebration of Memorial Day I made a recipe that was written on an index card in Grandma's script and stuck in the pages of her cookbook. The day was hot with a temperature in the 90's and the Icebox Cheesecake seemed the ideal recipe to try. I marveled that the recipe had to have been written around 30 years ago and that it remained in the folds of the well-turned pages in spite of the many times the book was open and shut, packed and moved, and handed from mother to daughter to daughter.

Memorial Day is also a time to remember those who have come and gone on this earth. Obeisance to my culinary heros led me back to the hallowed pages of Grandma's cookbook. The idea that we all have a one way ticket on this train, that we are here but for a stay, was not lost to me that day. My mother had recently suffered an illness that scared us all a bit and my parents recently lost a good friend who was an important person to those who knew him and his family. I read the obituaries with alarming regularity, mostly to honor the gift of life and to remind me to be grateful for the day and the opportunities therein. I feel in living my life, I am traveling a path that has been well trod by many wiser than me and I like to look at their footprints as I walk the road. When I am quiet I hear their voices, when I look with my heart, I can see their faces and I am taken back to places like my grandparents' front porch, the little church in PA where my father pastored, the sandbox,the Kindergarten classroom, the college laboratory and so many other venues where I learned from those who were my teachers and my guides.

We are all of us, with our friend Bob Dylan, knocking on Heaven's door and will be remembered hopefully well by those we have loved and cherished when we are gone. In the above picture, you see my daughter Emily and her fiance who are embarking on the journey of marriage in about a month. They practiced their cake sharing moment with this cheesecake. Chris, said fiance, after his taste pronounced it "gold". Or maybe it was his bride-to-be he was referring to! I wish them many happy years to make memories together.

This cheesecake from the handwritten card of my grandma is very tasty and fit for a special summer day.

Icebox Cheesecake
1 stick butter melted
2 cups graham cracker crumbs (crushed)
2 T sugar.
Press this mixture in a 8 X 13 pan, saving a few crumbs for the top.
1 package lemon jello
1 cup hot water
1 8 oz package of cream cheese
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sugar
1 can sweetened condensed milk
Dissolve jello in 1 cup hot water and let it set until it begins to solidify. Beat cream cheese, vanilla, and sugar until creamy. Beat the can of condensed milk in a chilled bowl. Add jello to cream cheese mixture and fold in whipped milk. Sprinkle with crumbs and put in refrigerator until served.

Wishing you time to enjoy good memories,
~Ellen~

A sure sign of summer:Mint Lemonade

2010-05-24T18:56:00.000-07:00

Even though my school year has four days remaining, I feel that summer has arrived. Today I made my first jug of mint tea lemonade using my mother's handed down recipe. This special brew hints of many summers past. It is summer in a glass!

Pictured above is a healthy crop of mint which is growing in our backyard. This nomadic plant has ancestral roots in Indiana. Once when I was visiting my parents in Michigan, I brought a sprig or two of mint tea (brought north from Indiana) back to the plains of Kansas in my suitcase. Laid to rest between my t-shirts these offspring wilted and looked to be gone from this world. Optimistically I placed the limp stalks into the earth, watered them, and gave myself to dreams of fresh mint tea. Behold the plants grew, and grew, and even multiplied. Since then, the tea plants has been split and shared and moved to my third Kansas home.

We all have loved this tea/lemonade mix that my mother created. The recipe has never been written down so I always hope to get the mix as I fondly remember it. I just took my mom a sample and she declared it "just right". My brother used to take a big jug of it to football practice back in his Goshen High Days. It has made the guest list at many special dinners, anniversaries, and graduation celebrations. People just trying it for the first time usually find it quite unique and refreshing. "What is this stuff?" they ask. Someone told me once that it is good with a bit of gin added and I have to wonder if that story ended with a guy sporting a lampshade with a southwestern motif. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Here is my attempt to record...

Mother Mary's Mint Lemonade
4-5 sprigs of fresh mint
water
1 can of frozen lemonade or powdered lemonade mix

Steep tea using the fresh mint. Prepare the lemonade mixture substituting the mint tea for 1/3 of the water requested. Serve cold with ice and a sprig of mint on top.

Happy Happy Summer,
~Ellen~

Dreams and Bones: Sweet Potatoes

2010-05-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

Pullin' weeds and picking stones,
We are made of dreams and bones.
These lyrics are from The Garden Song by Pete Seeger, a song which always reminds me of my dad. My dad has always loved a garden, has always seemed to feel a kinship with the vegetables planted deep in the ground. Vegetables need care, tending, and the dreams of the earnest planter. Many days I spend pullin' weeds and pickin' stones at my dad's behest. Many meals I enjoyed the vegetables pulled up out of the ground and spread out on the family table.

I appreciate the earthy taste of the sweet potato. Knowing I am eating something that got its start in the soil, was fed by the warmth of the sun, and watered by the blessings of showers makes me feel closer to the earth and closer to my dreams. I think anyone spending time in a garden knows what it means to be made of dreams and bones. Our bones do the laboring in the hard ground, while dreams make us fly somewhere above ground level. We need both, the balance of sweat and vision. Lucky are we, if at the end of the day, we have been required to call upon our dreams and bones to fulfill the demands of our day. Work should ask that from us.

I love fresh vegetables with their coats of many colors, the crunchiness, the tenderness, the pure flavor they possess. I love it that someone's dreams brought them into being. We, human beings, are, so much more like vegetables than we are foodlike products that are made in a factory, like gumdrops, or crackers, or imitation cheese. I believe we are meant to be close to the earth.

I tried this recipe for sweet potatoes for a dinner with members of my family. This dish received favorable comments from all around the table and I will surely make it again.

Sweet Potatoes
6 medium sweet potatoes
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup orange juice
Cook potatoes until soft, but not mushy.
Remove skins and cut in half lengthwise.
Arrange in a buttered baking dish and sprinkle with salt.
Heat together the butter, honey, and orange juice. Pour over the potatoes.
Bake at 400 for 25 minutes.

This recipe is from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Celebrating dreams and bones,
~Ellen~

What your mother tells you: Baked Stuffed Peppers

2010-05-09T08:10:00.001-07:00

"What your mother tells you now
In time you will need to know."
Mitsuye Yamudan

In cooking, and indeed in most of life, this has proven true time and time again. Today, in honor of Mothers' Day, I share a cooking mishap that occurred because I didn't listen to what my mama told me long ago in a small kitchen in Kansas.

When I was about 8 or 9, I wanted to try a recipe that I had found that contained orange chips. Orange was my favorite flavor in those days so I thought orange cookie bars would be fantastic. I begged my mother to purchase the ingredients and let me try to bake them myself. Against her better judgement, my mother did buy the orange baking chips and then she set me free in the kitchen. It didn't turn out so well. The highly anticipated orange cookie bars were hard and flat and tasteless. "What did you do?" my mother asked, not unkindly. "I just started at the top and mixed everything together" said I. My mother, with her maternal knower, sensed a teachable moment. Her directive, "You have to read the recipe all the way through before you start. Then you have to follow it."
What she told me then, I still need to know.

My mother knows what Alice Randall is quoted as saying, "Mother-love is not inevitable. The good mother is a great artist ever creating beauty out of chaos." She was and is a master at surveying chaos and offering kind words of redirection. Not just in the kitchen, but in the living room, in the bedroom while rubbing my back at night, while traveling in the car, and years later over the phone when I would call to check in.

So, why didn't I heed her early cooking advice when I was making stuffed green peppers? Probably the most common reason we sometimes don't listen to our elders. I thought it didn't really matter in this particular situation. The result? Disastrous Stuffed Green Peppers. I didn't parboil them as the recipe said (what was I thinking?) and I altered the stuffing ingredients so much that it just didn't work. I do make small alterations to recipes and my mother's advice from time to time but true wisdom lies, I believe, in knowing when it is important to stay the course and when it is okay to take a small step off the path. And always, always, be willing to learn.

My own children will learn cooking lessons and life lessons as they travel through life. As a mother, I try to prevent chaos sometimes by dispensing advice before a teachable moment arises. I wish it was enough for them to learn from my mistakes but they must make their own at times and I must stand by them, as my mama did me, and gentle them back on the path. And when a day goes by when there isn't chaos, mothers everywhere raise their eyes to the heavens and thank the Lord!

Here is the recipe for baked green peppers. I suggest you follow it more closely than I did!

4 large green peppers
1/2 pound of hamburger
1 cup fresh or canned corn or lima beans
1/2 cup crushed soda crackers
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper

Cut the tops off peppers and hollow them. Parboil for 5 minutes and allow to cool. Brown meat slightly and mix meat, corn or lima beans and seasoning. Fill peppers and top with cracker crumbs. Arrange in a greased baking dish. Bake at 375 for 25 minutes.

From the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950)

Happy Mothers' Day
~Ellen~

Potluck Memories and Cream Almond Cake

2010-04-30T15:32:00.000-07:00

My friend Chelle, who doesn't cook but says that reading this blog at least inspires her to think about cooking, came by the other evening while I was making a cake. She endured my diatribe about sifting and measuring flour correctly and kindly assisted my baking effort. The event that precipitated this notion to bake a cake was a staff dinner "potluck style" that was scheduled at my school. I don't usually bake cakes. I like them just fine, but I think of cake as sin on a fork. It's not good for you in any way but sometimes you find yourself wanting it anyway.

The vision of a potluck lunch on Friday fairly sustained me this week. The menu was centered around homemade tacos and we were all to bring anything else to round out (pun intended) the meal. Oh what a sweet deal for a teacher on a Friday in April! This occasion got me thinking about the potluck experiences I have had. Potlucks are a fond memory as we had many in the Mennonite churches I grew up attending. And since my dad was usually a pastor, we were expected to go. If not, who would bless the food? We sent up our own prayer that his prayer would be short so we could eat. Potluck lunches meant many things to children: more time with friends, no table to set, no dishes to wash, but most importantly, a chance to ditch your parents and fill your plate with fried chicken legs, rolls, and 4 kinds of cake. No green space on the plate brought popular acclaim at the kids' table.

We would start at one end of the table, tray with dividers in one hand, rolled up silverware in another and survey the goods. I was always on the lookout for the crispiest fried chicken. Next came the potatoes, scalloped in twelve different ways. Rolls in the middle of the table. A small smattering of salads followed. Then came the jello. What was the deal with jello in the 70's and 80's anyway? Holy cow, there was a lot of table space wasted on that fraudulent dish. Green jello with pears (bad idea), orange jello with shredded carrots (are you KIDDING me?) and cherry with whipped cream (palatable). As a denomination, I believe we have "seen the light" regarding jello. I haven't found the dastardly product on a Mennonite table for quite some time. The desserts followed and they were plentiful: pies, cupcakes, cookies, and cakes galore. Which begs the question, which came first, the potluck or the pot belly?

Perhaps this background information explains my decision to make a cake. At any rate, I found a recipe that sounded delicious and it proved to be so. It was shared with my colleagues at our version of the potluck lunch. I present it to you now and urge it you to try it for a special occasion. It really is so nice and fluffy but still heavy enough to be a respectable cake.

Cream Almond Cake
1 cup shortening (I used half shortening and half oil)
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 cups cake flour (I really used cake flour)
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
1 cup milk (I used 3/4 milk, 1/4 cream)
5 egg whites
1 tsp almond extract
Cream shortening. Add sugar gradually and beat until fluffy.
Sift flour and add salt and baking powder.
Add dry ingredients alternately with milk and flavoring.
Beat thoroughly after each addition.
Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites.
Bake at 350 for 30 minutes.

Topped with cream cheese frosting, I thought it was just terrific.
Recipe adaped from Grandma's copy of The Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

I hope there is a potluck in your near future,
~Ellen~

Bread and Beauty

2010-04-23T17:55:00.000-07:00

I learned a lesson about beauty in Plain City, Ohio back in my teen years. I went there with my parents for my grandma's funeral and was surrounded by many elderly conservative Mennonite and Amish folks. It was there among the cape dresses, coverings, and plain suits that I discovered true beauty.

I was a teen in Phoenix, Arizona at a fairly affluent high school. It seemed to me at the time that beauty described those who were well dressed, clear skinned , thin, and good looking. I was convinced that, for me, beauty was always going to be elusive. Until I found myself in Plain City shaking hands, accepting condolences, and looking into the clear, kind eyes of the plain folks who had come to remember Ida Kauffman Yutzy. I watched their exchanges with each other, marveled at their sincere smiles and sensed a deep peace. I inhaled and exhaled in the midst of the simplicity and hope that just seemed to be hanging around the room. Might as well breathe some in. It was a knowing moment, where a truth hits and changes one's perspective forever. These people,I thought, are beautiful. I have to say that this sublimation helped me endure the rest of my high school years. "Okay, so you might be pretty," I'd think about someone I had previously felt envious of, "but I have seen beautiful."

Thereafter I saw beauty in many places where previously I had not. I remembered my grandma's wrinkles around her eyes when she laughed and knew they had been beautiful. To this day whenever I hear my mother's voice, I hear beautiful. Generousity is beautiful. Anyone bending down to help a child is beautiful. A young person listening to someone older and wiser tell an important story is beautiful. Children with Down Syndrome are beautiful. My daughter's faces, fresh, red, and new, when first I gazed upon them were unspeakably beautiful. My husband's forbearance is beautiful. A simple homemade meal is beautiful.

When I work with bread dough, the wrinkles and lines sometimes remind me of Grandma's face. In my memory she is smiling and the creases frame her shining eyes like streams of light. That is one reason I like to make bread. The folds and wrinkles of the yeasty dough take me back to when the eyes of my heart were opened to beauty that can't be bought and will never fade.

Oatmeal Yeast Bread
1 cup rolled oats
2 T sugar
1 T shortening
1 tsp salt
1 cup milk, scalded
1 pkg yeast
1/4 cups warm water
2 1/2 cups flour
Mix together the oats, sugar, salt, and shortening.
Pour over this the scalded milk.
When cooled to lukewarm, add yeast that has been softened in 1/4 cup warm water.
Stir in flour and knead until dough no longer sticks to fingers.
Shape into a load of bread.
Let rise until double.
Bake at 374 for 35-40 minutes.

This recipe was adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Enjoy something beautiful today!
~Ellen~

When life gives you... Lemon Pudding

2010-04-15T16:56:00.000-07:00

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. You know the saying and forgive the banality. It is advice both trite and sage. Those words came to mind today when I returned to Grandma's cookbook and to my own kitchen where I often seek to soothe my soul. Cooking these recipes has become respite and refuge for me.

Stirring is centering, baking is believing, and beating egg whites is like claiming a strength that you thought was out of reach. And then the eating... well, that is loving and also the affirming that all shall, eventually, be well. And it will. And I've got lemon pudding to prove it.

In my memories of Grandma, she had a ready smile and contented eyes. She seemed always to be at peace. I would say the same is true of her daughter, my mother. It is a legacy I treasure. That is also why I return to my culinary history, to draw from the well of deep peace and true joy. And sometimes, to beat the heck out of a few eggs.

Here is the recipe for Lemon Pudding adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook
(1950). Even if life hasn't given you lemons lately, I suggest you try it! It is light and sweetly delicious.

1/4 cup lemon juice
grated rind of 1 lemon
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp salt
3 eggs, separated
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 cup whipping cream
combine fruit juice and rind,sugar, salt, and beaten egg whites.
Cook mixture until thickened.
Cool slightly and fold in stiffly beaten egg whites.
then add whipped cream and blend into mixture.
Put 2/3 cup graham cracker crumbs in a shallow pan (8 X 11)
Pour in filling and sprinkle remaining crumbs on top.
Freeze until set.

The grated lemon rind gives this an energetic zesty taste. It made me smile.

Peace and joy,
~Ellen~

Easy to toss, Easy to Eat: Bierocks

2010-04-10T07:06:00.000-07:00

The bierock, object of today's entry, is endearing largely because it is prehensile and nutritionally complete. Easy to eat, and throw (if one is so led) the bierock contains meat, vegetable, and bread. I have never thrown a bierock but its nearly elliptical shape suggests that it could be effortlessly tossed across a dinner table in a spirit of fun. It can be eaten with your bare hands or with utensils depending on how your mama raised you.

My resourceful Grandma wouldn't mind, I suppose, that I gleaned this recipe from another source of Mennonite culinary treasures. The Best of Mennonite Fellowship Meals (Good Books, 2003) contains many recipes that are good for large groups of people. As if Mennnonites would ever feed large groups! Recently I had a day off and I wanted to do some baking that would result in having something healthy and easy to put in my work day lunches. The bierock is the perfect solution. They are fun to make, delicious, and can be quickly reheated in a microwave. In a complicated world, lunch should be simple, shouldn't it?

I add whole wheat flour in place of some of the white flour and I also add some ketchup, mustard, and grated cheddar cheese to the meat mixture which goes inside. I don't measure this, I just add enough to make it moist. Also, you might notice from the picture that I don't shred the cabbage too finely. If I am putting vegetables in something, I like them to be known for what they are!

Here is the recipe:

Bierocks

1/2 cup warm water
2 pkgs yeast
1 1/2 cups lukewarm milk
1/2 cup sugar
2 t salt
2 eggs
1/2 cup shortening, softened
7-71/2 cups flour (white and wheat)
1 1/2 lbs ground beef
onion to taste
1/2 cup butter
1 medium head cabbage

Dissolve yeast in warm water. Combine milk, sugar, salt, eggs, shortening and yeast mixture. Add flour until dough handles easily.
Turn on lightly floured board. Knead until smoooth and elastic. Place in greased bowl, turning to grease top of bowl.
Let rise until double, about 1 1/2 hours. Punch down and let rise until double again, about 30 minutes.
Brown ground beef and add onion to taste. Drain. (Here is where I add ketchup, mustard, cheese)
In separate skillet, melt butter. Shred cabbage and cook until wilted. Drain. Mix with ground beef.
Divide dough in half and roll out. Cut dough into 4 inch squares.
Fill each square with meat mixture. Fold up corners and pinch together. Seal well and turn upside down on a greased pan. Let rise 15 minutes.
Bake at 350 for 15 minutes or until nicely browned.

Hoping you can enjoy the simple pleasures of the bierock,
~Ellen~

Hope Rises: Orange Bowknots

2010-04-03T17:53:00.000-07:00

In Sunday school with the youngsters a couple of weeks ago, we were hearing the stories of Jesus and the events that led to the crucifixion. These stories have become passé to many it seems but not so to one little girl who had been propped against me on the floor. The leader was telling of the betrayal of Jesus and this feisty young one sat upright and said, “WHAT? They were mean to Jesus? Why were they MEAN to JESUS? You mean his friends were mean to him? WHY?

Good questions, little one.

Her indignant, darling, freckled face has come across my mind more than a dozen times the last few weeks when I read the paper, listen to the news, or think about ways life has gone wrong. Then her voice comes to mind and shakes my complacency. WHAT? I think, how could this happen? Why are people sometimes cruel, why do bad things happen? Why don’t we all say, “WHAT?” more often, even to the meanness that lurks in our own hearts or to the ways that we fail to do right?

We do know though that wallowing in the "what?" can cause us to despair.
Abbbot Nichols (www.inwardoutward.org) asks “Do you ask too much of God? Know that when God’s prize is downfalling, you may find a rising. When God's favor is silence, you may find a melody. When God's blessing is suffering you may sense deep peace. The heart of darkness is new light. The heart of despair is fresh hope. The heart of death is eternal life."

As I thought about this, it seemed important for me to turn to Grandma's cookbook for a recipe that would rise, like hope does when we don’t want to be stuck in the what. We have to do the work. We gather the important stuff, knead until the life giving yeast is spread throughout, and give it a warm place to grow. Rising, growing, living...the good news of Easter.

These rolls are soft and buttery with just a touch of orange flavoring.
Orange Bowknots
1 1/4 cups milk, scalded
1/2 cup butter
2 eggs, beaten
1/4 cup orange juice
1/3 cup sugar
1 tsp salt
1 package yeast
2 T grated orange peel
5 cups flour
Combine sugar, salt, shortening, and scalded milk.
Cool to lukewarm and add yeast to this mixture.
Add beaten eggs, orange juice and grated rind.
Beat mixture thoroughly. Add four gradually, mixing to a soft dough. Cover and let stand 10 minutes.
Knead and then let rise until double its bulk.
Roll dough 1/2 inch thick. cut in 10 inch strips 1/2 inch wide. Tie each strip into a knot. Place on baking sheat and let rise again until double in size. Bake at 400 for 15 minutes.
Spread with topping made of:
2 T orange juice
1 tsp. grated orange rind
1 cup confectioners sugar

From the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Happy Easter
~Ellen~

Something Green This Way Comes: Cream of Asparagus Soup

2010-03-27T07:12:00.000-07:00

Asparagus arrives with the earliest and most eager days of spring and that is why I love it so. If I could choose to reappear on this earth in a food form, (yes, there is room in my mind for such random thoughts- using the imagination isn't just a puerile pasttime!) I would be asparagus. You have to love the dogged determination of this lean green stalk of nutrients. No fat, no cholesterol, and densely packed with good-for-you vitamins. It dares to wait three years before propagating(gotta grow those roots) and once it does, it reproduces with zeal. I appreciate that it doesn't require much preparation to be delicious.

My favorite way to eat asparagus is to saute it in olive oil with green onions and then very lightly salt it. I admire the way it gets greener and stays firm even when cooked. What's not to love? Seeing asparagus appear in bundles in the grocery store a few weeks ago buoyed my hopes that warmth and sunshine were on the way. If you can't trust the crudites, it's a dark day.

And of course, there is the health factor. Vegetables are good for you as we all know. That is why parents across the world make their children eat them before they bust out the chocolate cake. My memories of Grandma cooking vegetables doesn't involve olive oil though. She usually cooked them in water. I do know that she recognized that they lost some nutritional value in that process. She once offered me a cup of vegetable water left from boiling green beans. "Here" she said, "they say all the vitamins are in the water." No thanks, my adoloscent self replied. I watched, astonished, as Grandma knocked back the cup of green bean water. She dared to chuckle at my incredulous expression. I like that in a person. Way to go Grandma!

Here is a recipe for Cream of Asparagus Soup
2 bunches of asparagus
4 green onions
3 T butter
3 T flour
1 qt milk (I used some fat free half and half)
salt and pepper
Melt butter in saucepan, add flour and then milk to make a cream sauce.
cook chopped asparagus for 20 minutes in salt water.
Saute minced onion in 1 T of butter; when tender, add to asparagus.
Add asparagus to cream sauce.
Bring to a boil and serve.

This was really delicious!
This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950). It was submitted by Mrs. Amos B. Charles from my dad's homeland Lancaster, PA.

With the love of green things and spring,
~Ellen~

Food is Hello:Butter Horns

2010-03-20T13:33:00.000-07:00

"Food has always been a hello, it's been a goodbye, and it's been part of the celebration." Lousie McKay
I saw this quote in the American Indian museum in Washington DC last week as part of a display about how different tribes are maintaining culture. Food, as we know, is a significant part of culture. One of the things I have learned while cooking memories these last months is that shared meals have been a kind of language as well. Food is an embracing, a way of saying, "come in and stay".

While visiting at my brother and sister in law's home on our trip to the DC area, we found this to be true. We were welcomed by a fragrant and delicious meal and given more of the same throughout our stay. My sister-in-law, Magda, can cook! Even now, my taste buds tingle upon the remembrance. When we arrived back in Kansas, my mother called to say that she would have dinner for us when we arrived back in town. Warm soup would bid us welcome. Such hospitality says hello, celebrates togetherness and tradition as well as sustains our physical needs. Many times when my own children come home, they peek their head in the kitchen wondering what familiar fare will greet them. Often when they leave, I say goodbye by handing them some homemake cookies or rolls for the journey. Food as goodbye.

Food as part of the celebration are delicacies that have special meaning for extraordinary times. Someone's favorite on his or her birthday, pies made only annually for the Christmas dinner, the remembered favorite when someone comes home from college. It is clear to me now, that cooking and sharing meals are of tremendous importance in my family when gathering with loved ones.

I thought of one time when my mom and I went to visit Grandma after my Grandpa had died. We got there about lunch time and there was not a meal waiting. Instead, Grandma asked us to go to the local grocery store for a deli chicken. Beg your pardon? I was startled because never in any visit to Grandma's had I ever had anything but homemade food. While Mom and I were in the grocery store picking out the chicken, I said to my mom, "This is just weird." I don't remember exactly what she said but she agreed with me that it was different and likely due to the fact that Grandma wasn't doing everything she used to do. It was a statement of acceptance that things had changed. Certainly hello can look like a deli chicken or even a frozen pizza. I didn't feel any less loved but I remember realizing that I had become very accustomed to being welcomed by food made in Grandma's kitchen. In some ways, the baton was passed. We did more in the kitchen that visit, she did less. It was time for that.

Here is a recipe for butter horns which will say hello to my husband when he returns from his work today and to my daughter Amber, soon to be home for spring break.
Butter Horns
1 package yeast dissolved in 1/2 cup warm water
1 cup scalded milk
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup shortening
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp salt
4-5 cups of flour
Scald milk. Add shortening. when cooled to lukewarm temperature, add the yeast and water. Add sugar, salt, and beaten eggs.
Mix thoroughly.
Stir in flour gradually, adding enough so that dough doesn't stick to your fingers.
Cover, let rise in warm place until double.
Roll out dough into circles the size of a dinner plate. Cut into pie shaped wedges and brush with melted butter.
Start rolling at wide end and roll toward center.
Place on greased sheet or pan and let rise again until double.
Bake at 425 for 15-18 minutes.

This recipe adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Hello, goodbye, and celebrate!
~Ellen~

Guest Blog: Eggplant for Dinner (or as Decoration)

2010-03-18T17:28:00.000-07:00

This blog will have a different sound from Ellen's usual creative writing style. Since Ellen is out of town, she invited me, her mom, to add a recipe. Last week as I was re-reading journals from the early 70's, I found this story. Ellen had been playing basketball with three little guys, about her age, from the neighborhood and from the sound of laughter, and conversation, all had gone well. She came to tell me about the fun time saying, "Mom, don't you wish you were my age so you could have all this fun?" I avoided an affirming response, aware of what I was doing (sanding an antique frame for a mirror) and the difference in ages. While I continued to sand, she declared with enthusiasm, "I"d always like to stay this age..........nine years." Thinking logically as a Mom, I said, "You do want to go on to be a teenager and enjoy the years that will follow?"" "Oh, yes, I do. I want to go and be ninety-one, then I'd like to come back and be nine again. I love being this age!"

As in her younger years, enthusiam, creativity and imagination were evident. These characteristics have continued in what she does. Ellen finds what gives life.

I decided to include a recipe using an eggplant. This was not a familiar veggie in my early years. In fact, since Gene enjoyed gardening, we've added such plants in our small garden plot. They usually are quite productive. I looked for recipes that appealed to me, and yes, the one I chose to try was found in Grandma's favorite cookbook. I learned recently of a friend who was in a garden club where veggies were shared and he had received eggplants. That raised questions about what to do with this produce. He finally decided to use it as a centerpiece with other colorful garden items. Perhaps that's yet another idea one can use when gifted with a plethora of this interesting vegetable.

Here's a recipe for a creative eggplant souffle..........

1 large eggplant
Pare eggplant and cut into 1/2 inch pieces.
Cook in 1/2 cup salt water until tender and almost dry

2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup milk
1 cup grated cheese
3/4 cup soft bread crumbs
2 teaspoons grated onion
1 tablespoon catsup (add more if you like the taste)
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper (I added a bit of basil and Island spice blend from Jamaica)
2 eggs, separated

Make a white sauce with butter, flour and milk.
When thickened, add mashed eggplant, seasonings, cheese, crumbs and beaten egg yolks
Fold in stiffly beaten whites

Pour into greased baking dish and bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes.
Serves 6

From the kitchens of Mrs. Velma Miller and Mrs. Marling Lauver

Enjoy,
Mary Herr

Simply Delicious: Baked Cheesy Pasta

2010-03-04T19:12:00.000-08:00

This is me tending the pasta, stirring the white sauce, and thinking about frugality while making some creamy pasta and cheese. I was thinking thrifty so decided to make this dish because it meant I could make supper for a few dollars. I also wanted to use up some refrigerator ingredients whose time had come. Two things that make us Mennofolk wince, grimace, heck maybe even cry: 1)throwing good food out and 2)paying full price for anything. I say this gladly. Learning to use and not waste, save and not overspend are good lessons to learn.

I remember Grandma Yutzy was a coupon clipper. We would get letters from her, which upon opening would produce coupons falling like manna from the heavens. My mom and I joked about this occasionally but we did use some of those coupons and many years later, sometimes my mom's letters to me contained coupons, usually for diapers.

The other thing Grandma did was collect pop bottles (usually ones she found discarded on the road) return them to the store, and save the money. When our family would visit them, this money would be the grandchildren's suprise gift. She would give us the collection of coins and my brothers and I would set about the task of dividing it up among ourselves, lining up the sets of coins like peaceful demonstrators until we were each satisfied we had our fair share. It was her way of giving us a gift without it costing her a lot of money, just her leg work mostly. As I heard tell, she'd ask Grandpa to stop while they were driving down the road if she spottted a bottle.

Plato said, "Let parents bequeath to their children not riches, but the spirit of reverence." This leads me to be thankful that my value inheritance of frugality was not handed down in a spirit of fear or selfishness but rather presented alongside the attitudes of gratefulness and giving. Learning to be thankful for the simple and recognizing the abundance we have is the essential truth if frugality is to be celebration and not deprivation.

Here is a most deliciously simple recipe for baked pasta and cheese.

2 cups pasta (I used cavatappi)
6 cups boiling water
salt
White sauce (recipe follows)
1 1/2 cups grated cheese I used a colby /monterey jack mix)
4 slices of old bread (cubed and browned in butter)

Cook macaroni in salt water and drain.
Make a white sauce with these ingredients:
4 T buuter
4 T flour
1 Tsp salt
2 cups milk (I used half and half nonfat)

Mix the cooked pasta, white sauce, and grated cheese and put in a buttered casserole dish. Sprinkle parmesan cheese on top. Put buttered bread cubes on top.
Bake at 375 for 35 minutes.

This recipe is adapted from Baked Macaroni and Cheese in the Mennonite Community Cookbook.

Enjoy!
~Ellen~

Something Beautiful: A Numana Event

2010-03-01T18:09:00.000-08:00

Today at our school, we had a Numana event. A multitude of cheerful people planned and supervised this great event. Children carried in banners with colorful handprints declaring their intent to do "something beautiful for God." All day first graders to middle schoolers donned hair nets, aprons, and gloves and worked cooperatively scooping, spooning, weighing, sealing, and packing these meals that are to be sent to Haiti. The word is, by next Friday, the packaged meals meant to feed up to 6 will be in the hands of our seriously hungry brothers and sisters in Haiti. At 4 o'clock parents and parishioners showed up (the saints kept marching in) and the gong went off as we celebrated every 5,000 meals boxed and ready to fly.

It was a wonderful event to be privvy to. We started the morning by getting our hands blessed and many ended in early evening with tired hands and dusty feet. But hearts were focused on the intent of the day. "Together, we can do something beautiful for God." (Mother Teresa)

Wonder and Awe: Flying Franks

2010-02-25T16:28:00.000-08:00

The picture shows Flying Franks. In the Mennonite Community Cookbook, they are featured in a recipe called Frankfurter Quails. I wasn't really connecting with the bird reference so I renamed them something that seemed more fitting. At any rate, in the picture that is cheese and bacon you see stuffed in and wrapped around those bun length franks. After a stint under the broiler, I stuffed them, redemptively, into a whole wheat bun. Could this be anything but fun?

I was drawn to these because I do remember my mom making them on occasion and I remember getting very excited when she did. There was something about hot dogs for supper that made me feel lighter. Casseroles are serious, a pot roast is downright grave... but hot dogs? There must be a party brewin'. At least to my young mind it was that way.

I have been nostalgic lately about the youthful sense of wonder. I realize I miss one of the really great things about parenting young children and that is the privilege of reliving the fun of simple things with them: stepping in pudddles, seeing a butterfly emerge from a cocoon, licking ice cream cones, eating hot dogs around a campfire. I have tried to keep my sense of wonder and I am thrilled that my last name is Awe now. It was an easy name to claim. I believe wonder and awe keep us grateful, hopeful, and easier to be around.

As I eat my flying frank, I wonder at the marvel of fun and joy and adventure.
Here is how you make them... I did it in twelves, pick any number that suits your fancy or your family.

12 bun length franks
12 slices of bacon
12 slices of sharp cheddar cheese
buns

Cut a slit down the length of the frankfurters. Stuff the cheese slice inside them. Wrap them with the bacon (I precooked the bacon for 1 minute first) and then secure the bacon with toothpicks. Broil them for 5-6 minutes. Insert into whole wheat buns and marvel at the fun.
This recipe adapted from Frankfurter Quails in the Mennonite Community Cookbook.

Wishing you a child's sense of wonder and awe,
Ellen

Lent and Potato Soup

2010-02-17T16:50:00.001-08:00
For Lent, something light is in order. The recipe I share today might be a good Ash Wednesday or Lenten Friday meal. But first, a few thoughts. One thing I appreciate about the Catholic faith is the observance of the liturgical seasons. The observances are intentional and reverent in many cases. With the different seasons are practices that can add to the meaning of the holy days. I like the names, Lent, Advent, and the Season of Ordinary Time. The appellation "ordinary time" indicates that although it may be ordinary, it should be noticed.

Funny way to start a Mennonite cooking blog entry? Well, I am rather eclectic in many things, no less my faith expressions. I think the way I was raised has something to do with that. When I was young, we sang, Jesus loves the Little Children, and He's got the whole world in His hands and I always knew deep down that my family and my faith community believed each word was true. If we are all God's children, it seems to follow that individual and varied practices, petitions, and prayers are all worthy. That works for me. Nearer my God to Thee, and I will take it almost any way you serve it.

At my school I am the Mennonite who loves Mass, I have been touched by Baptist altar calls, I love the quietness of traditional Quaker services, African American spirituals move me to tears, and I wish I could be a better Buddhist-like person. When I was thinking about this, I remembered my grandma's first question upon learning when I had a new boyfriend. "Is he Mennonite?" If the answer was no, we moved down the flow chart, "Does he go to church?" It never bothered me, these questions. At the time, I didn't really know for sure who I was and I mostly cared if my boyfriends were cute. I appreciate that Grandma let me know what she thought was important. I know better now who I am, a pilgrim with deep Mennonite roots, a learner with an open heart and a seeking spirit, so thankful that every road honestly followed leads to God.

So, here you are- a recipe for potato soup which is a rather eclectic mix in itself, combines a couple of recipes, none enough to give credit. A melting pot if you will...

Crock Pot Potato Soup
4 russet potatoes, cut into small cubes
1 medium onion, diced
2 carrots, thinly sliced
2 stalks of celery, cut into small pieces
28 ounces of chicken broth
1 1/2 tsp dried basil
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
1/4 cup flour
1 1/2 cups fat free half and half

Bread, cut into small cubes
2 T butter or margarine

Combine first eight ingredients in a crock pot. Cook on high for 3 hours or until vegetables are tender. stir together half and half and flour. Pour into soup. Cover and cook 30 minutes or until thoroughly heated.

Brown diced bread cubes in butter. Add to the soup just before serving.

Bless us O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ our Lord.
Amen

Many Blessings,
Ellen

Love and Graham Cracker Fluff

2010-02-14T11:57:00.000-08:00

Oh my goodness, this is great stuff! I am, I confess, prone to hyperbole, but please believe me when I tell you that Graham Cracker Fluff is amazing. It is a lightly sweet, fluffy pudding surrounded by the perfect chewiness of graham cracker crumbs. Thanks to our friend Sylvester Graham once again. By the way, per his recommendation, I am making sincere attempts to have cheerful conversations at mealtimes.

My cousin Beckie recommended this recipe and also provided the idea of making a design on top. In honor of this holiday of love, I chose a heart design. Well... the heart is a bit bedraggled now because we dove right into this dessert and found it hard to stop! I am so glad I tried it and I encourage you to try it too.

Before I tasted this fluffy delight, I was thinking that I might write about love in its more quotidian forms. That is, the everyday forms of love that our family and friends show us and that we can take for granted until we don't have them. The hello hugs, goodbye wishes, morning coffee, clean-up duties, oil changes, and so on. On such daily events does our sense of lovedness rest at times and I wanted to acknowledge their significance. However, when I tasted Graham Cracker Fluff, I was reminded of those times when love just knocks our socks off. (I told you it is good!) Aren't we glad for those times too? The miracle of birth, hearing the words "I love you" from someone who makes our heart sing, being forgiven, seeing the outpouring of a community for its homeless members, a really beautiful musical performance, and so many more moments which stir our senses and fill our hearts to full and overflowing.

Quotidian acts of love, knockin' your socks off love, and mostly the love which is shed abroad in our hearts (Romans 5:5) are all reasons to smile and feel warmth on this cold and windy Valentines Day.

Here is the recipe for Graham Cracker Fluff.
2 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar,
2/3 cup milk
1 package gelatin
1/2 cup cold water
2 egg whites
1 cup whipping cream
1 tsp vanilla
3 T melted butter
3 T sugar
12 graham crackers
Beat egg yolks and add sugar and milk. Cook over low heat until slightly thickened. Soak gelatin in the cold water.
Pour hot mixture over softened gelatin and stir until smooth.
Chill until slightly thickened.
Beat the whipping cream and vanilla together and add this with the stiffly beaten egg whites to chilled mixture.
Combine melted butter, crushed graham crackers and sugar to make crumbs.
Sprinkly half of crumbs in bottom of serving dish.
Add mixture and top with remaining crumbs( this is your chance to be creative, make your beloved's countenance maybe?)
Let chill in refrigerator until set. It doesn't take long.

So, go ahead, knock someone's socks off with a bit of fluff!
Happy Valentines Day,
Ellen

Ready for Anything: Zwiebach

2010-02-08T10:36:00.000-08:00

Zwiebach. There is nothing quite like it. I was unfamiliar to this type of bread until I went to college in Hillsboro. At freshmen orientation, we could sign up for two mini-courses. I signed up for water skiing and Mennonite cooking. Water skiing got rained out but Mennonite cooking stops for no weather pattern! A bunch of freshmen crowded into Katie Warkentin's house where she got us all involved in making zwiebach and verenika. This was very much a participatory course and we rolled, pinched, browned, and baked until happily, we were able to partake of the fruits of our efforts. It was all delicious. Zwiebach and verenika are typical to this area and they quickly became some of my favorites as there were plenty of opportunities to enjoy them.

Tonight I will host my youngest daughter's basketball team for dinner. Twelve hungry young ladies, straight from practice, seeking fortification for their upcoming game, will descend upon our kitchen. What to make? I thought about what another Mennonite woman told me a few months ago as we were discussing meal preparations for a homeless shelter dinner. She said, "When I have a dozen zwiebach in my freezer, I feel like I'm ready for anything." I tend to agree. I think many women in this region keep a bag of zwiebach available as ballast for any obligation to feed the masses. We always want to be ready to show our Midwestern Mennonite hospitality. Somehow, to give someone zwiebach, is to care for them. Tonight, on the table for the Lady Railers, there will be zwieback.

Years after my mini-course when I was a young mother, I tried to make my first batch of zwiebach on my own. They came out quite hard, more like zwiebricks! I told my friend Donna Jost about this, and she took me under her more experienced wing. "Come over" she said, "we'll make them together." We did and they turned out very well. While working alongside her, I discovered what I had done wrong. I had failed to knead the dough long enough and I had worked in too much flour. The dough should be manageable but just a bit sticky. The yeast, like the love in our hearts, must be worked through and through until it becomes part of everything around it. And so, thankfully, friendship saved my zwiebach.

Here is the recipe:
2 cups scalded milk
1 cup warm water
2 tsp sugar
2 tsp salt
4 Tbsp. sugar
1 cup shortening (I used half margarine and half shortening)
1 egg
1 package of yeast
8-10 cups of four (I use right around 9)

Scald milk, add shortening, salt and 4 T sugar. Put yeast in a small bowl, add 2 tsp sugar and 1 cup lukewarm water. Set in a warm place until spongy.
Add yeast mixture and beaten egg to lukewarm milk.
Mix well and stir in flour gradually. Knead dough until very soft and smoooth. (Like I said you want it to be just a little sticky so they don't get heavy. I love the way the dough feels when it is just right-supple and satiny, like my babies when they were brand new or the shiny top of my husband's bald head!)
Cover and let rise in a warm place until double in bulk.
Pinch off small balls of dough the size of a small egg.
Place these 1 inch apart on greased pan. Put a slighty smaller ball on top of the bottom ball. Press down with thumb. (It springs right back up, no worries)
Let rise until double in bulk. Bake at 420 degrees for 15-20 minutes.

They turn out like a partial snowman. I always, always pull them apart and eat one ball at a time. It is so much more fun that way.

This recipe is adapted from the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Blessings.
May you also feel ready for anything!
Ellen

The Love of Learning: Warm Graham Muffins

2010-02-02T17:26:00.000-08:00

I work in a wonderful school and the little part of it that I am responsible for managing is called "The Learning Lab." One day I took a little boy down there for the first time and he looked at the sign, read it aloud, and brightly declared, "I want to learn something!" Wow! It was one of those moments that affirmed my life's vocation as a teacher.

I could also relate to him. Part of my heritage (the world that lives in me) that I deeply appreciate is that I come from people who loved to learn. Grandma's cookbook (as well as her copy of the Bible) is full of handwritten notes and clippings that show she was a hunter-gatherer of information. One of my favorite stories about her husband, my Grandpa Yutzy, was that he refused to teach my mother to milk cows. He said that she was to go to college, to be a teacher. And indeed she did. She is an amazing woman, my mother. She is a voracious reader, not just smart, but also wise. She has spent her lifetime learning.

When I picked up Grandma's cookbook on that cold day in December and decided to use it for a travel guide of sorts, I knew there would be a lot to learn. For instance, I can't wait to find out what a huckleberry is. I happened upon a recipe for graham muffins which called for graham flour. I figured graham flour was something I could surely find at Prairie Harvest in downtown Newton. But I was wrong. They do not carry it. However, Carol at Prairie Harvest did a bit of research and told me that graham flour is really wheat flour but coarsely ground and less processed. She found a substitute mix for me that I could use in place of the ground flour. For each cup of graham flour, one can use 2/3 cup white flour, slightly less than 1/3 cup wheat bran and 1 and 1/2 tsp wheat germ.

I did a bit more research on my own and found that graham flour is named after Sylvester Graham, an early 19th century health reformer. He had strong ideas about healthy eating, advocated the use of whole wheat flours, and this is my favorite part- recommended that people get enough sleep (oh yes!), eat 3 meals a day 6 hours apart, wear loose clothing (I adore him now) and practice cheerfulness at mealtimes. I may have to get a T-shirt with his picture and the phrase, "Proud to be a Grahamite" Who can argue with these practices?

These muffins are really good. They have a grahamy kind of flavor, you know what I mean. They are delectable- especially warm, right from the oven, with butter and honey.

Graham Muffins
1 cup graham flour (I used the aforementioned mix)
1 cup white flour
4 tsp baking powder (oh yes, they will RISE)
1 tsp salt
1 egg
3/4 cup milk
4 Tablespoons brown sugar
4 Tablespoons melted margarine

Measure and sift dry ingredients together. (I have discovered that sifting is very relaxing. Hard to be shifting when you are sifting.)
Beat egg. Add sugar, milk and melted butter.
Combine with dry ingredients and pour into greased muffin tins.
Bake at 425 degrees for 20 minutes.

This recipe is adapted from "Graham Muffins" in the Mennonite Community Cookbook
(1950).

Wishing you cheerful meals and delicious muffins,
Ellen

The World that Lives in You: Shoo-fly Pie

2010-01-29T11:36:00.000-08:00

In the book "The Shack" there is a quote by Frederick Buechner:

"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world, but a world lives in you."

The world that lives in us may be like the part of the iceberg that isn't seen, or like the part of shoo-fly pie, not noticeable at first glance, but underneath the top layer, ready to ooze out. Shoo-fly pie is part of the world that lives in me, in my stomach if I have to pick a region, but tied to the heart, and springing from the roots of my upbringing. I have memories of eating this pie at potlucks, friends' homes, and MCC sales.

And isn't it true that we may move far away from our hometowns, parents, siblings, and old friends? We may doff some traditions like we discard the clothes from our past. We begin anew. We claim our own beliefs, get new hairstyles, purchase new music and books, and cook new foods. But this world that lives in us is undeniably there. Let us be kind to it, to the lessons from our past, to love shared, and even to mistakes we have made.

The world inside of me honors the world inside of you. It is there, layer upon layer, in all of us. In our stomachs, hearts, and minds. It makes us who we are. This world, these memories and experiences, are ready to be shared and integrated into new and present realities.

Here is a recipe for Shoo-Fly Pie...from the world inside of me!
Bottom Part:
3/4 cup dark molasses or Karo syrup
3/4 cup boiling water
1/2 tsp baking soda
Top part:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 cup shortening or margarine
1/2 cup brown sugar
Pastry for one (9 inch) pie

Dissolve soda in hot water and add molasses.
Combine sugar and flour and rub in shortening to make crumbs (I used two knives to cut it in)
Pour one-third of the liquid into an unbaked crust.
Add one-third of the crumb mixture
Continue alternate layers, putting crumbs on top.
Bake at 375 degrees for about 35 minutes.

This recipe is adapted from the Shoo Fly Pie recipe in the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Respectfully,
Ellen

Filling them with Love: Barbecued Hamburgers

2010-01-25T17:45:00.000-08:00

I remember once reading about the value of family meals. Someone once said, and I paraphrase as best I can recall, "When you gather around your family table, you aren't just filling your family with food. You are filling them with love."
That is why I preserved the tradition of the family meal.

So, too, I believe, there is more to cooking than just the meal preparation. When you cook, particularly with others, you aren't just making food, you are making memories. Since doing this blog, I have been grateful for recipes and memories shared in return by friends and relatives. Thank for joining me on this journey and sharing yourselves with me. I look forward to more fellowship.

Some of my favorite times when my children were younger were when I pushed a chair up to the counter, tied an apron around their waist (laughing as they tried not to step on it) and gave them ingredients to add to the mix.
They were expert egg breakers by age 6 and they loved tossing the shells to the sink after all the egg was drained out of them. They would help hold the mixer, all the while asking, "We can lick the beaters after we are done, right? You'll leave lots of stuff on them, won't you Mom?"

When they got older, they helped some- although not as enthusiastically! Many times, they perched on a stool nearby and visited with me while I cooked. Those were memorable times as well, when the conversation flowed, and they confided in me about hopes and fears. I remember stopping a few times during my stirring to wipe tears or give a hug. The other day, while I was making the recipe I am about to share, 24 year old daughter Emily was perched atop a stool talking to me while I cooked. It was a treasure, having her there, and we launched into one of our favorite topics-relationships. Even though she is an accountant and I am a teacher, we become Dr. Phil and Oprah as we take on all the challenges inherent to human friendships and romances. Emily did make an observation the other day while I was cooking, "You don't really measure things all that carefully, do you Mom?" Actually, exactness is not one of my most outstanding characteristics. In anything.

Sometimes, I cook alone now. That is when I listen and reflect. Most often, I reflect on experiences shared in kitchens in other houses, other towns, other states. There is something wonderful about cooking alongside cherished ones and sharing the experience. I consider myself richly blessed for the memories of cooking with grandma, mom, daughters, and friends.

Here is the recipe I made. It might be perfect for those Super Bowl watchers!

Barbecued Hamburger
2 pounds hamburger (I used half ground venison from son-in-law to be Chris)
1 onion, chopped
1/2 cup ketchup
2 Tablespoons brown sugar
2 Tablespoons vinegar
2 teaspoons prepared mustard
1 Tablespoon Worcestershire
Fry onion and hamburger and venision until well done. Add other ingredients and simmer.

Fill some whole wheat buns with love and this barbecued meat mix!

This is adapted from a recipe submitted by Mrs. Norman Loux to the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Yours in memory making,
Ellen

Homemade Granola and the Merits of Exercise

2010-01-18T11:31:00.000-08:00

I have had a couple of requests for the granola recipe I use so I'm going to deviate temporarily from the Mennonite Community Cookbook to another annal of Anabaptist recipes-The More with Less Cookbook. Published by Herald Press in 1976, this cookbook may have been to my generation what the Mennonite Community Cookbook was to my grandmother's. More with Less has been my constant kitchen companion over the last twenty years. If some day, I have a grandchild and if that grandchild happens upon my MWL cookbook, it would be in similar condition to that of my grandmother's favorite cookbook. There are handwritten notes in the margins, smidgens of peanut butter stuck hither and yon, broth-stained pages, and a barely-there cover.

Because the intent of this journey is to honor the memory of my grandmother and to recount the lessons learned from my past I do want to share a memory which illustrates the value of exercise. You may have noticed these recipes aren't low calorie? This fact has not escaped me either. And so, as the firm foundations become much less firm, and the buttresses threaten to fly dangerously low to the ground, I remembered how Grandma kept herself fit. Hard work of course, was part of it. But Grandma Yutzy, I discovered, was also a follower of Jack LaLanne.

When we stayed at Grandma's house in Plain City, Ohio, I usually ended up sleeping on the couch in the living room. This was the same room that housed the black and white television. On these visits, Grandma would wake me, early, to greet the morn with her and Jack LaLanne. He was a perky and buff man who had his own exercise show. I discovered Grandma Ida Kauffman Yutzy knew his every move. I would watch as she stretched, counted, and lifted along with Jack. She smiled as she strained despite the early hour and my lack of enthusiasm. It was quite a regimen. When he commanded his viewers to assume the cat position, my traditionally dressed and tressed grandma dropped to all 4's, arched her back, and opened her mouth as if she were going to let out a cat cry. It was unsettling to say the least. On the other hand, it is one of the few visual memories I have of her doing something besides domestic chores. It made her seem more human and I cherish the memory. And so, I learned that exercise is an important part of a balanced life. And with my revitalized passion for traditional Mennonite fare, so very necessary.

But now, here is the granola recipe I make about every two weeks. I eat it almost every morning for breakfast, either with fruit and milk, or else mixed with yogurt. It is so crunchy and delicious and it gives me lots of energy.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
Mix together in large bowl:
1 cup coconut (I try to find natural and unsweetened)
4 cups rolled oats
3/4 cup sunflower seed nuts
1/4 cup soy nuts
3/4 cup wheat germ
1/4 cup flaxseed meal
1 1/2 cups peanuts, almonds, walnuts, and pecans (any combination of these nuts you desire to equal 1 and 1/2 cups)

Bring to a boil:
1 cup honey
1/2 cup canola oil
1 T vanilla
1/4 tsp cinammom.

Pour honey mixture over dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. Spread on 1 or 2 buttered cookie sheets. Bake 30 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes. Allow to cool, then break into chunks and store for later enjoyment. Your house will smell heavenly for hours!

This recipe is adapted from the Crunchy Granola recipe in the More With Less Cookbook.

Exercise, Eat, and Enjoy Life!
Ellen

A Hankering for something Hearty: Whole Wheat Pancakes

2010-01-16T07:03:00.000-08:00

See the above picture? Those are the pancakes I wanted. I did not get those pancakes. The pancakes I made this morning didn't look bad. They were just, well, heavy.

Grandma's cookbook was beckoning me to come and see. I hadn't opened the book for about a week and I felt the pull of nostalgia and adventure asking me to try a new recipe. So, waking up with a hankering for something hearty, I decided to try the recipe for whole wheat pancakes.

My husband pulled out a nifty little appliance we have called the Pancake Factory. It has served us well for years, cooking up those morning offerings made with, all due respect and contrite apologies to my Mennonite ancestors, pancakes from a box mix. I know! But to my credit, I throw in some wheat germ or flaxseed meal when I do use those convenient boxed products.

But this morning's pancakes were made from stratch and turned out thicker and heavier than the fog embracing our cozy little town. My husband, always a good sport, was fairly exhausted after turning these cakes on the griddle. He eyed them optimistically, lifted his fork, and toasted, "in for a penny, in for a pound." He wasn't counting on three pounds. But darn it, he means what he says and the man just kept going. Around his sixth syrupy bite, he looked at me and said, "I hope these aren't doing any internal damage." Mind you, he was still eating and smiling at me. After finishing his short stack and having more time for reflection, he said, "Maybe these were fed to the Amish men before a barn raising, you know, just to keep them on the ground." That they could certainly do. They didn't look or even taste poorly, we just need to lighten these cakes up!

I am sure not everything Grandma made turned out just the way she wanted. However, I don't want to give up on the idea of making whole wheat pancakes from stratch. I am hoping some readers will give me ideas for improvement. Life is about learning.
So, with a heavy stomach and a light heart, I submit the recipe I used for whole wheat, stick to your ribs, pancakes. I welcome your suggestions.

2 eggs
1 cup brown sugar (I used one cup of honey instead)
1 T butter
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp. baking powder
1 cup milk
2 cups whole wheat flour (I used 1/4 cup wheat germ and 1/4 cup flaxseed meal) rather than 1/2 cup of the wheat flour)

Beat eggs, add sugar and milk.
Mix dry ingredients and add to liquid.
Add melted shortening and blend togeher.
Bake on hot griddle or pancake making appliance.

This recipe was adapted from one submitted by Mrs. Amos Leis of Ontario, Canada. It was submitted to the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Thanks to my husband for being a trooper, always ready to help and taste!
Yours in cooking and learning,
Ellen

Verb is a Noun: Scalloped Corn

2010-01-10T18:40:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about all the verbs I have read in this cookbook. Verbs I haven't come across for awhile: scalding, folding, sifting. There are lots of actions required in cooking and attentiveness to these actions is essential. One must be astute when folding because it is not to be confused with mixing. I actually stood in my kitchen with a spoon practicing the folding action required for Spanish Cream. It was as if I were completing an "air cooking" activity to make sure I had the deftness required to properly fold.

One of my students announced to me recently that "verb is a noun." No, I kindly corrected him in my teacher voice, a verb is an action word, it is a different part of speech. He, just as kindly, because he is a patient young man resigned to teachers who can't stay ahead of his creative mind, " the word verb is a noun, I looked it up in the dictionary." I smiled at him and nodded in agreement. I hoped he wasn't ready to give up on the idea that I could perhaps teach him something too one day. It occured to me later, while I was thinking of all these cooking verbs, and this student, that truly students choose their teachers. For that matter, children choose their parents too. Children are born to or adopted by parents, students are assigned to teachers but to choose these people is a volitional act. To say, "this is my mother, this is my teacher, is to choose them. And what an honor it is to be chosen as someone's parent, teacher, leader, pastor, friend. It is more than biology and location. It is love, reciprocity, openness.

Sometimes it is saying, as my friend Martha told me recently, that love wins. Sometimes, relationships are difficult, even seemingly impossible. Then we have to say again, I choose to be here with you, in a new and real way.

Doing the mixing, stirring, measuring, and baking is helping me choose to be mother, stepmother, wife, daughter, neighbor, and friend because I am creating these recipes and offering them to the people in my life whom I choose. Why? Because love wins. And that is good news.

Here is the recipe that I made especially for my husband, two daughters, stepson, and soon to be son-in law. They liked it and it is easy. It rounds out a meat and potatoes meal in a warm and comfortable way.

Scalloped Corn
2 cups cooked or canned corn
2/3 cup cracker crumbs
3 T melted margarine
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1 T sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. minced onion
1 cup half and half or milk

Beat the eggs and add milk and cracker crumbs.
Add the corn, onion, seasoning, and melted margarine.
Mix together well and pour in a casserole dish (lightly sprayed or buttered)
Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes.
Choose to serve it with love.

This recipe is adapted from a recipe submitted by Mrs. Walter Weaver and Mrs. Henry Huber to the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Keep choosing,cooking and loving,
Ellen

Peanut butter cookies and the Gift of Imagination

2010-01-06T15:17:00.000-08:00

When I was about 8 years old, the Easy Bake Oven was a hot item. Not literally, as it was only fueled by a light bulb. But girls my age had them and I knew that. I wanted one. I thought it was very cool that the oven was said to "actually bake" and that it came with mixes ready for the fixing.

However, my parents being of one mind with the Rolling Stones, on at least this occasion, let me know that we can't always get what we want. But if we try, we just might find, we get what we need. What I needed as it turned out was a sturdy wooden toy stove fueled by, as you might have guessed, my imagination. My parents believed in quality and sturdiness. This stove and the matching refrigerator were fine pieces of craftsmanship that withstood many hours of creative playing. They may have survived a Kansas tornado if they had needed to. I cooked and baked just fine without the Easy Bake Oven and although there is still a spark of curiousity about those boxed brownie mixes and how long it took a light bulb to actually bake them to a palatable degree of doneness, I am thankful for the respect my parents had for the the gifts of imagination, simplicity, and good sturdy toys.

These cookies are simple and sturdy. This is the best stick together, just the right amount of crunchiness, will hold together even if dipped in milk, peanut butter cookie I have ever produced.
I baked them in a real oven this time!

As I made them, I gave thanks for the gift of imagination and the ability to really see, when life is pared to the essentials, what may have been there all the time.

1 cup shortening or margarine
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
3 cups flour
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
Cream shortening and peanut butter together. Add sugar and continue to beat. Add eggs and vanilla and beat until fluffy. Sift flour. Measure and add salt, soda and baking powder. Sift again. Gradually add dry ingredients to creamed mixture and mix thoroughly. Chill dough in refrigerator for several hours.
Shape dough into balls 1 inch in diameter.
Place balls 2 to 3 inches apart of greased baking sheet.
Press flat with a fork.
Bake at 375 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes.
Makes about 7 dozen cookies.

This recipe was submitted to the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950) by Mary Brubaker, Sarah H. Gehman, and Mrs. Joseph D. Heatwole.

Wishing you imaginative cooking experiences and strong sturdy appliances,
Ellen

Spanish Cream and Stirring without Ceasing

2010-01-03T17:31:00.000-08:00

I wanted to make Spanish Cream today. I knew that it was something my mother made because my dad liked it. My dad ate it growing up and still has a fondness for it. Again, I remembered helping my mother make it but I have never made it all by myself. It was especially delicious when Mom would use the vanilla that my brother Phil and sister-in-law Magda would bring from Honduras. Spanish cream is light, exquisite, and it goes down easily. A lot like grace, you might say, which was on my mind today while I was cooking.

I got to the part where the recipe says, "Stir constantly." I half expected a voice thundering from the heavens, sounding suspiciously like Morgan Freeman, Girl, don't you put down that spoon. There is nothing more important than this, right now. So, stir it. It's a direct instruction, like "pray constantly" or pray without ceasing". I have never felt like I quite have the hang of that. I do strive for mindfulness, prayerfulness, and gratitude but find myself fearful and anxious too often. Maybe that is why Grandma hummed or sang hymns all the time. It was how she prayed without ceasing. She liked to sing Amazing Grace. The last time I saw Grandma alive, she was in a nursing home and had not been doing well. My parents were going to be gone one day and my mom asked to "go visit Grandma." I was 17 at the time. I went to the nursing home, sat by her bed and was surprised to see how poorly she was doing. I didn't know if she knew I was there and I quickly tired of the one-sided conversation we were having so I took her hand and sang to her. I sang all the verses that I knew to Amazing Grace. And I thought then and again today as I was stirring the creamy mixture, that Grandma showed me grace. In fact, life is full of grace. Most of the time, we get second chances, we are given grace upon grace, as so many spoonfuls of Spanish Cream. Both can be surprisingly sweet and clear and breath-taking.

Spanish Cream

1 T plain gelatin

3 cups milk

1/2 cup sugar

3 eggs, separated

1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla

Soak gelatin in cold milk for 10 minutes. Add sugar and salt and stir until it is dissolved. Heat until milk is scalded. Beat egg yolks slightly and add 1/2 cup hot milk. Stir mixture into remaining milk and cook until slightly thickened (about 4 minutes). Stir without ceasing.

Remove from heat and cool slightly.

Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites and vanilla. Put in a bowl and chill until firm.

It is important to serve this delicacy in a lovely glass bowl. Once when we were eating off of the good china, one of my daughters asked where the china was from. "From Grandpa's family" I answered. "It is so pretty!" she said.
"My mama was poor" my Dad stated, "but she had class."

So, here's to class, grace, and Spanish Cream.

Enjoy,

Ellen

This recipe was adapted from a recipe submitted by Mary Hostetler and Erma Ernst to the Mennonite Community Cookbook (1950).

Soup for a Snowy Day

2009-12-31T07:19:00.000-08:00

It has been a beautiful holiday season, light snow falling gracefully and leisurely, just as the ground threatens to turn brown again. Yesterday, seemed the perfect day to enjoy "a soup" as my mother calls it. My mother says, "I will make a soup" whereas I would say 'I will make some soup." I don't know what the difference is but it is a usage I find endearing. I think of her soups as entities, really, ready to be set out to provide nourishment and warmth. I guess I think of mine as just, well, an attempt at cooking. But that is why I am on this journey, to learn from the wisdom of those before me, who knew something I did not. That gathering fresh items for "a soup" is holy work. Our kitchens and our flat, wooden tables are holy ground.

Chicken Corn Soup is a familiar food item. I remember eating it at mom's table and in Shipshewana, Indiana. It is delicious! So, I set out to Prairie Harvest, purveyor of whole/bulk/local foods to find a nice chicken. Alas, no date of birth, but it was a supple young thing guaranteed to be organic and vegetarian fed. I like that in a bird. I brought it home and set it above the flame in a big pot. The aroma was soon wafting generously throughout the house.

This recipe calls for rivels to be added to the soup about 7 minutes before you serve it. A word of caution-don't make those rivels too big. I was dropping great globs of dough into the boiling substance when Derek, family friend who graced the kitchen with his presence during this leg of the journey, found a picture in the cookbook with a caption, that described "chicken corn soup thickened with tiny rivels." He read this aloud to me and I made the necessary adjustment. With rivels, as in most of life, more is less.

Chicken and Corn Soup
1 whole chicken
4 qts of cold water
1 onion, chopped
1/2 cup chopped celery and leaves
3 cups of corn
2 hard cooked eggs
salt and pepper
Cook chicken slowly until it is tender. Add salt after about 15 minutes. Mine was tender after about 45 minutes of slowly boiling.
Remove chicken from bones and strain broth through a fine sieve..
Take meat from bones and chop fine, add to broth.
Add the corn, chopped celery and onion.

To make rivels:
1 cup flour
1 egg
1/4 cup milk.
Rub this mixture together with 2 forks until well blended and drop into boiling soup.
cover and boil slowly for 7 minutes.

I wasn't at all sure about these rivels. It seemed risky to introduce a doughy substance into the mix, but even when I was making them too big, they were soon bobbing happily and surreptitously in the boiling broth. They do add thickening to the soup and make the eating even more enjoyable.

This recipe was adapted from the Chicken and Corn Soup recipe submitted by Mrs. B. L Bucher and Ruth Slaymaker to the the Mennonite Community Cookbook. (1950)
An appreciative nod to Derek Hamm for his encouragement and timely assistance.

With gratefulness to the many women who recognized the importance of hearth, home, and a healthy fragrant soup,
Ellen

In search of a one -year- old hen

2009-12-28T16:32:00.000-08:00
I got up and wanted to make something with chicken because we have plenty of it in the freezer. There was a recipe for chicken corn soup with rivels (coming soon) but we didn't have all the necessary ingredients. As I looked at other recipes I noticed one which called for "1 chicken (preferably a one-year-old hen)". I imagine when this cookbook was originally published it was highly plausible that a woman like myself could have gone into the backyard and selected the particular hen which was close to her first birthday. Perhaps I would have said to that feminine fowl, "Happy Birthday Ms. Hen, you are about to be served straight up with a twist of pepper." I admit to being a bit envious of those who could guarantee that degree of freshness on their family dining table.

I read this interesting ingredient request to a few family members. They laughed. One of my daughters suggested that perhaps it meant you bought a chicken at the store and let it sit around a year or so. The idea of having your own horde of hens to harvest didn't even occur to her. In her lifetime, she hasn't known a soul with their own crop of poultry out the back door. So, to the grocery store I go. When I get a whole chicken I will be making some chicken soup. I am going to check the packaging carefully. Who knows? Maybe there is a DOB on there somewhere.

I did make a hearty Chicken Salad with some chicken breasts that I baked and chopped.

3 cups diced, cooked chicken
1 1/2 cups diced celery
3 hard-cooked eggs
3 sweet pickles, chopped
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
2/3 cup mayonnaise
3 T cream.
Cut the cooked chicken. Chop celery, pickles, and eggs and add to chicken. Add seasoning. (I took the liberty of adding about a teaspoon of seasoned salt) Add cream to mayonnaise, when smooth, mix with chicken. We ate this salad on bagels. It was very tasty! I love the creamy mayo dressing and also the chunkiness of the salad.

This recipe was adapted from the Chicken Salad recipe submitted to the Mennonite Community Cookbook by Sadie Eash and Mrs. P. R. Kennel. Thank you ladies.

Respectfully,
Ellen

Comfort Food and Cracker Pudding

2009-12-27T13:55:00.000-08:00

Today I found a recipe for a pudding that my mom used to make so I decided to try it. It is actually made from cracker crumbs, but it contains the exotic and tropical ingredient coconut, which saves it from blandness. Sometimes a girl wants comfort food with a kick.

I began to make the pudding, a multi step process. By today's standards, it could be considered labor intensive. But it was another trip down memory lane. I was mixing, stirring, and measuring and remembering standing beside my mom while I assisted her. I had never done the whole process, just the parts she assigned me to do. I was looking at the thickening substance and thinking that it didn't look like mom's or grandma's. I leaned over and inhaled, relief, it smelled like my mom's. God bless the olfactory system -it cannot tell a lie.

I ate it warm, I ate it cold, I fed it to my husband who doesn't necessarily like coconut. He smiled, said it was good and willingly ate more. Did I mention that he is very sweet? I will take my mother some later and thank her for letting me help her so many tmes before I could do it all by myself.

Cracker Pudding
4 cups milk
2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup sugar
2 cups coarse cracker crumbs
1 cup shredded coconut
1 tsp vanilla

Scald milk. (very hot, almost boiling, bubbles beginning to form on the sides of the pan)
Beat egg yolks and add sugar.
Add this mixture gradually to scalded milk. Stir constantly.
Allow to cook for one minute and then add cracker crumbs and coconut. Stir until cracker crumbs are soft and mixture is thick. Remove from heat and add vanilla.
Pour into a buttered baking dish.
Spread with meringue made by beating 3 T sugar into stiffly beaten egg whites.
Bake at 350 until meringue is a golden brown.

I remember beating those egg whites and asking mom, "Is this ENOUGH?" and she would say, "Keep going until they peak, Ellen." So, as you beat those egg whites, think snow capped peaks of fluffy meringue to top off your paradise pudding.

With fond memories of Grandma Yutzy and my Mama Herr,
Happy Cooking and Eating!
Ellen

Starting Simply

2009-12-26T13:34:00.000-08:00

I spent an evening with Julie and Julia recently and was inspired by the love of food and the love of cooking that unfolded before me. I sat enamored and salivating on my couch. I loved this movie and admired the devotion of both cooks. What kind of culinary journey would I want to embark on? I remembered that I have in my possession, a copy of my grandmother's torn and tattered testament to all things deliciously Mennonite. The Mennonite Community Cookbook, original copyright 1950. My grandmother, Ida Kauffman Yutzy, used this cookbook for many years. My mother gave it to me many years ago after my grandmother's death. My mom had a newer edition and thought I might like my grandma's. This copy is falling apart and stained on pages of her favorite recipes. Inscribed on the covers and title pages are handwritten recipes, one of which I will share here.

A few words about the Mennonites. I am one and I realized recently, when asked to produce a cultural autobiography for a class, that being Mennonite is largely what defines me, Even though I teach at a Catholic school and most of my friends, including my sweet husband aren't Mennonite, it is largely what inspires and defines me. People who still think of Mennonites and Amish as one and the same, say "REALLY?" when they find out I am a Mennonite. They seem to just think I am the way I am because I grew up in the 60's. I wasn't old enough to have been a hippie then and all that irresponsible behavior wouldn't have completely worked for me. I have a proclivity toward appreciating the simple, and a heart for helping the needy. I believe in peace, love, food, and lots of good produce. I admit to a moderate thirst for red wine and lattes as well. My husband says I may be more of a "Starbucks Mennonite."

I have a recent rebirth of appreciation and fondness for my cultural and spiritual background. I strive to keep the family meal alive. So, I am starting out on a journey through the land of cream, lard, noodles and corn to revisit some recipes from my past. I have the memory of my Grandma Yutzy, with her full apron, housedress, and white head covering to guide me. Grandma was not warm, but she was kind and she always fed us well. She hummed hymns as she worked around her house. It is an honor to have her manual of love in food form, to be my guide for this year of Mennonite cooking.

My first recipe is not part of the cookbook, as most of my recipes will be, but is one that is written by hand on the inside cover page. I selected it because my own mother has made it for as long as I can remember as a special Christmas treat. This year I made it for the first time in my own kitchen. I called my mother to check on the kind of pan I was using and she reminded me of the baking time and frequent stirrings. "Every 15 minutes for 2 hours? Sounds like a commitment, " I said. The results are well worth it.

It is called Scramble. It is the best party mix I have ever tasted. I have always wondered if Scramble is the name my grandma gave it because I have never seen another recipe with this name.

Scramble:

2 lbs mixed nuts

1 12 oz. bite size shredded wheat squares

1 10 oz oat cereal

1 6 1/2 oz rice squares

1 5 oz pretzel sticks

2 cups vegetable oil

2 T Worcestershire sauce

1 T garlic salt

1 T seasoned salt

Miz all ingredients in a large roaster. Bake at 250 for 2 hours, stirring every 15 minutes.

That's right. two hours, every 15 minutes. Stir it sisters and brothers.

Peace be with you,

Ellen