Family History

For many years, I have wished for a recipe box like that which belonged to my grandmother-- a pretty wooden one with tabbed dividers for sorting cards. You don't see them around very often, especially on the West Coast. Today, however, my wish came true when I went shopping at Williams-Sonoma with my mother and grandmother. Unlike Grandma's, which held 3X5 cards, this one is made for 4''X6'' cards. It has a magnet to keep the lid closed, and has a "Pasta" divider where Grandma's had "Casseroles" and "Pickling". "Appetizers" has been replaced by "Hors D'Oeuvres".

Food is really important in most families, and is especially important in my mother's. Coming from a small town (Alexandria, Pennsylvania), the women of the family could be quite competetive and catty. I believe that the debate on whether one ought to press sand-tarts with one's thumbs or roll them out continues to this day. (Uncle Walter was enlisted as a judge every Christmas, and recieved large boxes of the cookies. He finally announced that, as they were his favorite, he would be an idiot to judge-- it would cut his supply in half.) I have spent the afternoon immersed in such stories as I page through old family cookbooks and Grandma's recipe box.

Some things break my heart-- like the card Grandma kept in her box with the name and number of the company that repaired her garage door, back when she could walk and lived in Palos Verdes. Aunt Ann, when she was still happily married and a young bride, sent her mother elegant recipes worthy of her new status as a diplomat's daughter-in-law ("Coq au Vin--(Chicken with Wine)", proudly writing her married name as the source. My favorite is the card added by a Second-Grade version of my mother, for Ice Cream Cookies, which lists "1 tasogs Vamilla" as an ingredient. There's also a recipe for the infamous "Bee's Kiss", referred to by family as "the Bee's Knees" due to an unfortunate error by a tipsy great-grandmother.

Some cards are infuriating, like the card for Potato Salad that begins "Boil potatoes. Let cool." Yes, but how many potatoes?

Mom's college recipe book is pretty interesting, too, and not only for the half-dozen variations of granola. The cover has the word "Recipies" stenciled on the front. Ann misspelled it when she was preparing to leave for college, and so bought herself a new one and left the typo to her younger sister. The first item in the book is some helpful advice on college life from an older brother. "Advice from Johnny: Beer stew: for use of stale beer." A college friend typed a recipe for Oatmeal Diamonds, noting "Read whole recipe before starting..." after which her boyfriend scribbled "if you don't this message will self-destruct, wreaking havoc amidst your spoons and knives." There's a page of Mom's Russian 210 homework (September 20, 1970), as well as driving instructions to her friend Laurie's house ("turn left, 930-ugliest bldg you've ever seen on rt. side of st. park where possible"). Both Mom & Grandma have over a dozen recipes for Christmas cookies, as well as pies and breads.

My father's mother is not such a good cook, in many ways. While Grandma Phillips just had a big family to feed (and catty in-laws), Grandma Hutton grew up on a farm where she had to help prepare huge meals for the workmen. She finds cooking from scratch a chore to be avoided at all cost. That said, she always makes me a (really good) chocolate pie. Her fried chicken, as well as her ham meat balls, are delicious, and sweet pickles from dill are one of my favorite things.

My investigation makes me interested in your family's food history. (I know you have one--especially Vanessa and Anna.) What does (or did) your grandmother make? What recipes do you make? Which ones can you share? Which ones can you not share? (I'm pretty sure that I'd be disinherited if I shared the Phillip's family chocolate sauce recipe.) Which foods have stories?

My family's history-- food and otherwise-- took a sad turn last week when my Uncle John Miller passed away. He wasn't really my uncle, but my grandfather's best friend and cousin. They grew up together in Alexandria, playing pranks like knocking over someone's outhouse on Halloween night, or tying someone's porch furniture to the top of a covered bridge. They were both devoted Republicans, and each canceled his subscription to TIME when it ran JFK on the cover. ("He was the president," says Mom.) John was always very good to my grandmother, and remained so for the over twenty-five years that passed between the death of my grandfather and his own passing. I met him once, when I was five, and nicknamed him Uncle "Have-Some-More" for his generosity at the table. We miss him, but, Mom says, "I keep thinking, 'Oh, maybe he's with Daddy'". Pray for both their souls.

Pie recipe to follow. I'm getting up early for mass tomorrow, and it is time for bed.