FAMILY RECIPES AND STORIES
(If you want to retell any of the stories listed below, be sure to obtain permission from the copyright holder if the material is not in the public domain)

HOLIDAY RECIPES
1) SPRINGERLE
My mother's ancestors came to Ohio from Germany in the late 1800's and kept up their traditions. In fact, German was still spoken at home when my mother and her siblings were small. Grandmother Kirn made the traditional pfefferneuse, lebkuchen and springerle cookies every Christmas, sending plates and boxes of them to neighbors and friends. She sent boxes of the goodies to her sons and daughters when they grew up and moved away. My mother made these cookies every year too. I fondly remember helping in the kitchen and then preparing plates and boxes of cookies for our neighbors and friends. There was no thought of a gift in
return. We did it because We Do This. When my brothers and sister and I grew up and moved away, Mom sent us boxes of Christmas goodies. I started a family tradition with my kids of making cookies to give, too, but I didn't have a proper springerle rolling pin -- deeply carved with bas relief pictures which you press into the (thickly rolled) dough. I used a cheap modern one with machine-routed carvings, very simplistic and shallow. Mom died in May 1988. That Christmas, I printed a family cookbook of her favorite recipes for all my siblings. It included her Christmas cookie recipes, which I and my kids faithfully made. But my brothers sadly complained that their wives had Christmas traditions of their own, and weren't about to add new recipes. So, as the eldest daughter, I began sending boxes of the traditional cookies to my father and siblings. It wasn't until Dad was ready to sell the house and move to Tucson that I found Grandmother Kirn's springerle rolling pin, which my uncle John had sent home after WWII when he was with the occupying forces in Germany. It has deep, detailed carvings -- including an American flag!! It's as old as I am. (I don't know what she used before John sent this one.) Now I use that rolling pin, and Grandmother Kirn's recipe for SPRINGERLE:
4 eggs, beaten very light
1 lb powdered (confectioner's) sugar
(optional: 1 t glycerine or white corn syrup to retain moisture)
1 T anise seed (my cousin experiments with other flavorings! 1 t)
2 t baking powder (Grandmother Kirn used 1/8t "baking ammonia")
1 lb cake flour
After beating the eggs, add the other ingredients in the order given. The dough will be heavy and a bit sticky. (NOTE: powdered sugar and cake flour both come in 2lb packages, but a double recipe doesn't fit in my mixer; so I divide the packages with the help of a kitchen scale.)
Roll dough 1/2" thick on a floured surface. Dust the top evenly with flour, then carefully roll the carved springerle rolling pin over it, pressing firmly.
Divide the individual cookies with a large long knife, flouring the blade so it doesn't stick and pull them out of shape. Gather scraps and reroll.
Arrange the cookies on a greased cookie sheet which you have sprinkled with more anise seed (if that's the flavor you're using).
Cover with a tea towel and leave to DRY in a cool room or refrigerator. [NOTE -- if you bake them right away, they'll be delicious but the pictures will disappear.] Don't worry about spoilage: nothing's going to grow in the presence of that much sugar!
About 12 hours later, bake in preheated 300F oven 13-15 min. The tops should remain white, bottoms can be a bit golden. Remove to a cooling rack ASAP. Store tightly covered.
If the cookies get dry and hard, put half an orange or apple in the tin with them. Traditionally they were prepared this way on purpose -- you had to bake a week or more ahead to make them edible! But I pull them out when they are still pale and chewy. They are lovely dipped in tea on a wintry afternoon.
Clean the flour out of the rolling pin's carvings with a stiff pastry brush before washing. If you wash it with flour in, the flour will turn to paste!
Good luck in finding a springerle rolling pin! There's a good one in the silent auction at church Saturday night -- I intend to bid on it for my daughter.

2) A pretty Christmas tin of homemade Mashed Potato Candy:
1/4 c. leftover mashed potatoes (plain, no additions like butter or salt)
3 TBSP. cocoa
2 to 2-1/2 cups powdered sugar
1 TBSP peanut butter (optional)
1/2 tsp. vanilla
(coconut or chopped nuts may also be added).

Mix potatoes & cocoa.
Add peanut butter & vanilla.
Mix.
Gradually mix in powdered sugar till it reaches consistency of fudge.
People sometime mix in green food coloring for St. Patrick's Day.

3) My favorite holiday story happened at Thanksgiving, although it could have happened at Christmas. Every spring my uncle, who we thought of as rich, bought a box of turkey chicks. He split the chicks with my Dad and whoever raised the biggest turkey provided the Thanksgiving feast, the next largest was our Christmas dinner. One year we raised the largest turkey. He weighed 42 pounds and was so huge that we feared he wouldn't fit the oven. Daddy was in his forties when I was born, so his brother and sister were quite a bit older than most of our friend's aunts and uncles. The family custom was to spend each Thanksgiving with either Uncle Ernie or Aunt Bea and their households. They lived just about an equal distance from our house and both places were quite boring to kids. We called the towns Hell Hole One, and Hell Hole Two. The only bright spot in going to see either one was that we got to stop and have hamburgers for breakfast along the way. The year of the giant turkey was Aunt Bea's home. She was a terrible cook and my Dad fretted about his turkey until Mom said she would fix it at home and Bea could just heat it up. We set out for Hell Hole One and luckily had just one flat tire along the way. Hey, it was c.l946, and we were driving one of those ancient old black boxy cars that had plenty of room for 3 spare tires, 5 passengers and one 42 pound turkey with all the trimmings. Our average for flats was two per trip, we were doing great. The day turned out to be better than we thought, Aunt Bea's three grandsons were there and we were all having a wonderful time. An hour before dinner Mom helped Aunt Bea get the mammoth turkey into her oven and left her to warm it up. In about 15 minutes someone noticed smoke coming from the kitchen. We all rushed in and Mom janked the oven door open. The beautiful turkey was on fire. Aunt Bea had turned on the broiler, not the oven, thereby living up to Daddy's prediction that she would ruin the turkey. Thank Heavens, he was able to save the day by clever slicing and we had a Thanksgiving to remember.
My recipe:
Prepare turkey using your regular and pre-tested method, probably handed down by your Mom. Turn the oven on to 350 degrees, not broil, and roast. I wonder what Aunt Bea would have made of deep fried turkey?

4) My father's mother came to the US from Ukraine when she was 4 yearsold, and tried very hard to be an American Girl, but she hated to cook. What little cooking she did was old-country style. So my mother and aunts were pleasantly surprised when she offered not only to host the Thanksgiving dinner but also to prepare the turkey. And they were astonished when she provided soup for a first course -- pretty tasty, too! But then the menfolk tried to carve the turkey. It was as tough and dry as old shoe leather. "What did you do to it?" asked the ladies. "First I boiled it for the soup. Then I roasted it. That's what my mama always did with the chicken..." From then on, the aunts took turns bringing the turkey and all grandma had to prepare was the dishes of nuts, raisins, and halvah on the end tables.

5) Here's mine:
It was Thanksgiving Day and my sister in law asked me to peel the potatoes. She threw a 10 pound sack of potatoes on the counter and left me to it. I started to peel and rinse and cut those potatoes in half before placing them in the pot of water. It was a nice sized pot, big really. So I continued. I peeled and rinsed and cut those potatoes in half. And then I peeled and rinsed and cut those potatoes in half.
And then I peeled and rinsed and cut those potatoes in half. You see, this was a long time ago and I was new to the family, much too shy back then to speak up and ask when enough was enough. Rather than ask, I just kept going. I peeled and rinsed and cut those potatoes in half. When every last one of those 10 pounds of potatoes had been prepared for the pot, my sister in law returned to my side to see how I was doing. She couldn't believe I had just peeled 10 pounds of potatoes for the 7 Thanksgiving guests!! It's a family story that simply refuses to die. Every now and again, the "potato wars" break out. One memorable battle: I sent my sister in law a family of real potatoes I had dressed in hula skirts and hats and those wiggly eyes. She put them on her Thanksgiving table for all to enjoy. By the time I showed up for an Easter visit, that potato family was growing those long white tubes from every part of their "bodies". They had found a home above her kitchen sink and were happy to live there for quite some time!
Recipe for mashed potatoes:
10 pound bag of potatoes
Peel and rinse and cut in half
Boil, drain, mash
Eat and eat and eat!!

6) In a family of 13 children, money is a rare commodity at Christmas. We got lots of presents, most of them very small. No matter how small, they were all wrapped. Even the stuff in our stockings was wrapped. You see, each of us bought presents for everyone. Usually all we had to spend was the dollar in dimes that our Aunt Ellen in New York sent in cards. We loved those cards, the dimes all neatly arranged in individual slots. We would take whatever money we had (sometimes we had money from trading in pop bottles) and go to Rohr's five and dime store to shop. That was the only place in town you could get a lot of stuff for a little bit of money. I remember one year, I was walking around that wonderland of cool stuff and I saw a beautiful green glass pitcher, the four-quart size, round and ribbed and gorgeous. I looked at the price--only 77 cents! I wanted to buy that for my mother so badly. She'd been using the same old white ironstone pitcher to make kool-aid for years. This one was elegant, classy, new. But 77 cents would only leave me 43 cents to shop (I had a little pop bottle money to add to my stash). How could I buy 11 presents with 43 cents? (We only had 11 kids then, so not counting me, but counting my Dad, that made it 11 presents). The challenge was on, and I was off to the hunt. I found a pack of 5 erasers for a penny each. That took care of three of my sisters and two brothers. A pack of pencils (4 for 10 cents) took care of the other three sisters and two brothers. A nineteen-cent handkerchief for my Dad, a rattle for the baby (there was always a baby in our family), and I was done, with 9 cents left! I bought a piece of penny candy to add to the gift for each brother and sister--not counting the baby, who was too small to eat it. When we got home from shopping, we all wrapped our gifts, each finding a corner to do this so no one else would see. Mom put out cookies and eggnog, our traditional food for gift-wrapping night. When we were done wrapping, we'd all gather in the living room, eating cookies and licking the froth of eggnog from our lips. That night I felt so satisfied. I'd gotten my mother the best present I'd ever given her, and I couldn't wait to watch her open it. That night stays in my mind as a time of real satisfaction and happiness, and every year when I make eggnog with my mother's recipe it brings back that warm, Christmas-y feeling. So here is my mother's recipe. If you can't eat eggs, drink dairy products, or worry about raw eggs, this isn't the recipe for you. But it's the one I've made and my family has enjoyed for the past 30+ years. And it's as far from the store-bought boxed kind as it's possible to get. No one who has tasted my eggnog can believe it's the same thing.
Eggnog (non-alcoholic, although you can change that if you prefer!)
6 eggs, whites separated from the yolks
Beat the egg whites with an electric mixer in a large bowl (I do it right in the punch bowl) until they form stiff peaks. Use high speed on the mixer.
Add the egg yolks and continue beating until it's all a rich yellow.
Add sugar. I can't say exactly how much, maybe a cup. (I'm not a measuring person)
Beat it in thoroughly.
Add vanilla. Start with a teaspoon, you can add more later if it's not strong enough for you.
Add milk. For 6 eggs, use about a half-gallon. Continue to beat on high with the electric mixer until everything is well mixed and very light.
Add 1/2 tsp nutmeg (or to taste). Mix in well.
Sprinkle nutmeg on top as a garnish.
Drink up! And lick that froth from your lip.

7) As with everyone I am sure this week has been a very busy time. Add to the Christmas hustle and bustle the extra duties of taking Dad to his many and varied doctor's appointments and I have found myself way behind. I haven't had time to make the homemade Amaretto, Rum Balls, nor the Irish Soda Bread that we toast and butter every Christmas morning. I thought to myself, "Well something has to give this year, I just won't bake." That is until my 17 year old son said, "Don't forget Mom, you have to make the Irish Soda Bread for Christmas morning." Just when you think they aren't paying attention to family traditions they go and surprise the heck out of you. So today, errands be damned, I made the bread. I guess it just wouldn't be Christmas without it. Here it is for all to enjoy. Remember to toast and butter it. A warm slice of this with a cup of tea and you are in heaven.
IRISH SODA BREAD
3 1/2 CUPS FLOUR 1 CUP RAISINS
1/2 TSP SALT 1/2 CUP CURRANTS
1/2 CUP SUGAR 2 TABLESPOONS CARAWAY SEEDS
1 TSP BAKING POWDER 1 3/4 CUP BUTTERMILK
1/4 CUP BUTTER 1 EGG
1 TSP BAKING SODA
Sift flour, sugar, salt and baking powder together. Cut in butter. Add raisins, currants and caraway seeds. Combine buttermilk, egg and baking soda and add to flour mixture. Stir only enough to moisten. Batter will be stiff. Bake at 350 degrees for 65 + minutes. Grease tins or spray with PAM. (You may freeze the bread after baking) Warm wishes and melted butter.

8) These posts remind me of my holiday tradition. I don't make holiday meals. Fortunately, my husband did and now the youngest does. I do make Christmas Eve chili and home made bread. I started that so that the kids would have a good, solid meal in their system cause no one eats good before the presents are opened in the morning! I had wondered if the kids cared. A few years ago I was sorely tempted to not do it, I was tired and the spirit just didn't seem to be in the family. I overheard the kids talking with the friends about what they do on Christmas. Ah, the pride in the voice when one of them said that 'Mom makes chili and homemade bread on Christmas Eve.' I think the friend was impressed! And this year, 'We still going to have chili?' and 'You going to be able to make bread?' Yup. (They were disappointed that I didn't make the bread for Thanksgiving.) Not going to bother putting down the bread recipe or the chili. Chili is personal, read a cookbook and do it your own way. I do braid the bread, and make small loaves so everyone can have their own. Happy eating and good memories!

9) Mom used to make eggnog for us when were were sick, a way to get some essential nutrients into us before the advice to not eat raw eggs. I'll bet your chickens and cows are healthier, and if I were there, I would raise a cup of your eggnog to a great new year for all of us!

10) Funny when this thread first started I didn't think I had a food story with a recipe. But Sandy's pie brought back one or two early disasters of my own. When I was first married I did not know how to cook. Not at all. My husband was 8 years older and had lived alone for many years. As a school teacher he was home earlier in the day than I was and just naturally would start dinner. It was 6 months before I even attempted to cook anything. We had been to his parents house one weekend and his brother had mentioned having stuffed bell peppers. Randy said that sounded good, he hadn't had them in ages. So, with a day off I decided to surprise him. I had his moms recipe for meatloaf and a really good cookbook. I went to the store and bought 6 large green bell peppers. I mixed up the meat, cored the peppers, set the oven. This was pretty easy! I stuffed the peppers put them in a casserole dish put the remaining meatloaf around the peppers covered it all with a tomato sauce and put it in the oven. Just before they were finished I opened the oven and put the small tops of the peppers back on Was Randy ever surprised when he came home and found supper made ( at 3 in the afternoon!) I was so excited for him to try it. I had set the table with all the fancy dishware and napkins with napkin rings and placemats. Had put out the fancy centerpiece all those things you get as wedding gifts that you quickly forget to use in your day to day life! I served up the stuffed peppers. Randy tried to cut into his. It was like shoe leather. It hadn't been over cooked, it wasn't burnt. I just forgot an important step. You have to par boil the peppers first. Randy said, well the part I like best about stuffed bell peppers is the meatloaf anyway. Of course, he ate every bite of it. I of course spent the rest of the day crying in the bedroom.
Stuffed Bell Peppers
6 large Bell Peppers
Meatloaf:
1/2 lbs ground beef 1/2 lbs ground pork
1/2 cup cooked wild rice (Uncle Ben's quick rice)
1/2 cup crushed cracker crumbs
1 tsp oregano
1/4 tsp salt/pepper
1 egg
Sauce
I 16 oz can crushed tomatoes
1 tsp of each garlic powder, onion powder, oregano
salt/ pepper to taste
Preparation:
Cut tops off bell peppers set aside. Core and seed the peppers. Use a fork to prick the bottom of the peppers
Boil water in a 2 quart pan, immerse the peppers (don't forget the tops!) in the boiling water for 3 or 4 minutes ( a fork should meet slight resistance when piercing)
Remove peppers and let cool
Mix all ingredients for the meatloaf
In a 2 quart greased casserole dish arrange the cooled peppers stuff as much meatloaf as possible into the peppers any left over meatloaf can be placed in the base of the casserole, this helps hold the peppers upright.
Pour the sauce over the peppers and bake 45 minutes at 350 degrees. Take casserole out of oven and put the tops on the peppers. put back in oven for 20 more minutes.

PIE STORIES
Query: Yesterday I was asked to tell stories at a senior citizen center on National Pie Day January 23. So I thought I would include at least one or two Pie Stories or stories that at least mentioned pies......Ideas please?

Early settlers in Key West, Florida came from the Bahamas. They brought with them a recipe for pie made from sour oranges. It was quickly adapted to use the Key Lime and a tradition was born. For over 100 years visitors and residents of Key West have enjoyed Key Lime pie. It is now the official state pie of Florida. Nobody does it better.

Singer songwriter Grant Livingston, Miami's Historian-in-Song, has declared his love of pies in a humorous song called "Don't Bother Jack." He has granted permission to post the lyrics on Storytell. He does request the following, if you use his song to develop a story: Let your storytelling friend know about "Don't Bother Jack" -- I'd like to hear what she does with it. As for the list, or anywhere you post the words, I ask that you include the copyright notice and my website address.
Don't Bother Jack ©1999 Grant Livingston
http://www.grantlivingston.com
So here are the delightful words (notice the audience participation parts!) Unfortunately there's no sound clip of this song. Check out Grant's website. He has other equally wonderful story-songs. If you do a story using his material, please let him know. His e-mail is grant@grantlivingston.com . You will also find it on the website.
Don't Bother Jack ©1999 Grant Livingston
I got a friend named Jack ó he's a regular guy,
But you don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
He'll shake your hand, look you square in the eye,
But you don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
When Jack's eating pie all the world does cease,
He's the picture of a man who has truly found piece,
But touch his fork, we'll have to call the police, no lie!
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
Doesn't matter if it's winter or the 4th of July,
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
He got a scoop of vanilla sitting on the side,
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
Got a friendly grin that shines through that beard,
A man to be trusted, and not to be feared.
There ís just one time he gets a little weird, no lie!
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
No, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack!)
No, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack!)
No, you don't bother Jack, can you tell me why?
(You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!)
Way up in heaven there'll be pie in the sky,
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
We'll all become angels and learn to fly,
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
The King will call Jack down to his right hand,
I'll say, "wait a minute Lord, you got to understand,
But I guess you do, because you made that man, no lie!"
Even YOU don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
Well, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack)
No, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack)
No, you don't bother Jack, can you tell me why?
(You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie)
There ís just one rule that we gotta live by,
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
Fish gotta swim and birds gotta fly
And you don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
A lie's a lie, a fact's a fact,
Life is pie, and that is that.
And if you disagree, then you don't know Jack, no lie!
You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie!
Well, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack)
No, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack)
No, you don't bother Jack, can you tell me why?
(You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie)
Well, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack)
No, you don't bother Jack (You don't bother Jack)
No, you don't bother Jack, can you tell me why?
(You don't bother Jack when he's eating pie)

11) In my version Jack had carried ice cream in his hat previously, and having been told to pack an item in ice, he packed the puppy in ice -- but it didn't die! Jack's mother fed it warm milk and wrapped it in warm towels, and it recovered. In fact the pie scene begins with his mother showing him the pies cooling on the back steps, and warning him "If you go out in the back yard to play with your puppy, be careful to step in the MIDDLE of those pies."

12) My Pie Story
The first pie I ever baked all by myself was a remarkable culinary achievement which taught me an enduring lesson. Many times I'd helped my mother, an excellent cook, with pie baking. By the time I was 7 I could roll out the dough, folding an turning to ensure flakiness and a round shape with little waste. When I was 8 or 9 I begged my mother to leave the kitchen and let me make the rhubarb pie all by myself. I mixed the ingredients well, refrigerated the dough. I washed and cut up the rhubarb in fairly even inch long pieces. I rolled out the crusts on a floured board. I lined the pie plate with the dough, mounded the filling, placed the top crust on. I trimmed it; folding and fluting the edges to make a truly beautiful pie. I made some slits to vent the steam as I seen my mother do, and placed it in the oven at 350° and baked it with several peekings till the crust was the perfect shade of tan.

I don't remember what the main course of dinner was that night; it was only prelude to my pastry coup de cuisine. At last it was time for dessert. Four pieces of pie were served but my mother father and brother waited because I got to take the first bite. Aaack! I had forgotten one essential ingredient; sugar. Mom tried to salvage my efforts with a simple syrup, but the pie remained stubbornly inedible.

So what lessons did I learn? The world did not end. My family still loved me, and they wanted me to try things on my own. Of course as an accomplished cook now, I know that somethings just have to have sugar.

13) Thinking of pie stories, I was reminded of the funny story of Loretta Lynn's humband's courtship of her. He'd just come back from somewhere (the army, I think), and came to a social dinner. The idea was that the single women made food, and the men bid on it. The bidder got to eat wit the woman who made it. He wasn't supposed to know whose feed it was, but of course they did. Dooley bid on Loretta's--some enormous amount of money for the time--$10 or something. But it turned out she had made the pie with salt instead of sugar!!

14) Rhubarb -- This is a true story/confession of my early married days, and it may shock those of you who think of me a sweet, shy, and honest. The yard next to our apartment building had a wonderful patch of rhubarb. A friend had pointed it out to me, and I was fascinated, as my mother had never cooked rhubarb. Now this friend was a bit of . . . well, a bad influence. We had gone on occasional forays in the neighborhood to "liberate" flowers from the confines of their gardens. One dark night I snuck over to that rhubarb (shades of Rapunzel here), and cut . . . two stalks!! The next morning there was a newspaper spread on our back steps, piled high with rhubarb. I hadn't been all that sneaky -- and our neighbors obviously had generous spirits. With the help of Joy of Cooking, I made a pretty decent rhubarb pie. It occurred to me that I should have taken a piece over to thank them, but I was much too embarrassed. I told this story to our Kansas City friends once, my friend Gladys really loved it. She hates rhubarb, won't touch it -- and to meet someone who actually stole rhubarb!

15) How familiar -- a rhubarb pie. I was much older than you--young married with a small child. I had cut out a pie receipe from the newspaper. I made a 10" pie -- the crust was golden brown. As my mother never made pies, I was determined to learn myself. I had done it! The babysitter was offered a piece of pie while we were out. When I came home, I noticed a piece of pie missing, and later found it in the trash can. I was puzzled. I cut a piece of pie for my spouse and I. Much to my chargin, I had to run and spit it in the trash can. I too had left out the 1st ingredient listed: SUGAR. And, nothing could make it sweet--the rest of the beautiful pie went also in the trash can. Pride before the fall? I have learned to closely read ALL the ingredients, especially those receipes cut from newspapers.

16) Mother was a great swedish cook. Prided herself on the ability to create a culinary gold purse from a sows ear. Included the gold coins to boot. In a hurry to create another apple pie masterpiece before I arrived home from college with a certain new friend of the opposite sex persuasion, she stayed up late and created one of her masterpiece pies which was then allowed to cool overnight so we might enjoy it the following morning with coffee. Unfortunately, my gag reflex of running from the table, spitting out the pie piece and warning others not to eat it did nothing to endear myself to mother. Not to mention the embarrassment it caused for my friend who had no clue what to do or say, but managed to extricate herself rather nicely after a minutes reflection. She was a friend of mothers from then on, but did manage to leave me hanging on a limb for a minute or two until mom tried the pie and realized she had substituted salt for sugar. Hey, they both start with an 's', they're both white, and at 11:00 pm, after a long days work...

(This web page updated 9/20/05)