What does one do when one sees four bananas that look a little past their prime hanging on the banana hook? Many a modern girl would throw said fruit away, fearful of the blackish-brown spots that have overtaken the fresher yellow skin. Nay, nay, says a girl brought up baking. Those blackish-brown spots are a gift from God and make the heart of every true baker sing with anticipation of the delights that can be coaxed from it mushiness.
This morning, not having had to arise for work (one thing I do thank the state legislature for), the kids and I lay piled in bed discussing the opportunities the day held. Jake decided he was fully prepared to make waffles for breakfast. With very little adult supervision (just enough to make sure he didn't burn himself on the waffle iron), he turned out 6 very nice, tasty waffles. He even dressed them up with syrup for Emma and I.
As if this wasn't enough to make a mama's heart swell and burst, Emma decided she wanted to bake something too. She is ambitious and enthusiastic in the kitchen, however, she is not quite ready to be turned loose on her own. I look around and it was as though the heavens opened and shined a sparkling light on the brown bananas. Emma, being young in the art of baking, looked at me somewhat skeptically.
I assured her this would work, and I skipped over to one of the cabinets of cookbooks (yes, there are multiple cabinets/bookshelves full of cookbooks in our house. I admit I have a problem - but that is a subject for another day.) I located a tattered, worn, book and carefully brought it down to the counter.
Everyone should have a cookbook like this. If you don't, you should scour used bookstores, contact small town city halls, break into church basements, or do whatever else you have to in order to find one. I have several - I actually got what I think is an entire set (four books! JACKPOT!) from my in-laws of the finest recipes Floyd County has to offer. There is one from the Clements FFA, one from the First Christian Church of Dumas, Tx, one from the Calvary Baptist Church of Dumas, TX. I'm pretty sure the Methodists are also represented somewhere in my collection.
This particular gem is the Moore County Centennial Cookbook. It is chock full of the history of Moore County, and more importantly, of the favorite recipes of its citizenry. This book was put out in 1992, but the recipes contained with in belong to ladies (and gents) who had long since passed, or who were not far from seeing what was on the other side. These are the recipes of folks who had to weather the dust bowl, droughts, depressions and other such maladies and still managed to set a fine table.
These are not recipes for petite eaters worried about their figures - these are hearty recipes for hearty people who probably figure out a way to stew up the petite ones into something quite tasty if needed to survive the winter.
This cookbook is well worn - it's had many a spill across it's pages, once caught on fire, the binder doesn't quite hold all the pages anymore. In college, I was a go-to cook for many of my friends and the source of many of the favorite recipes came from this book. After college, single life cooking limited me to potlucks and the occasional "thank you cake", but that "thank you cake" could just about get anything done I needed done by a certain warehouse crew in Houston. (Thanks, guys!!)
So, you can see it was with much love that I introduced my youngest child to the CookBook. I gently turned the pages to a banana bread recipe and started to gather the ingredients. Emma strapped on her apron and started mashing bananas like there was no tomorrow. We "measured" (real cooks know recipes amounts are just a suggestion, not a law) and sifted, beat, mashed, mixed and laughed our way through the directions. At one point Emma informed me that our aprons were getting dirty - and I was able to pass on to her useful knowledge: "A clean apron is the sign of a poor cook." She looked at me with a somewhat hesitant grin and then declared us excellent cooks.
Lest you think I am alone in cookbook hoarding - I would like to point out it is hereditary - my mama (a descendant of a long line of Kansas cooks, and a fine cook in her own right) has a collection that is even more extensive. My sister and I have been informed that we should keep our grubby little hands off them until she's gone. (We can wait - a long time hopefully.)
But, I sit here now, sipping my tea, contemplating the differences between my "chef" cookbook collection and my old country cookbooks and I know that should I ever have to part with any, the chef ones will go first. They are nice and chockfull of pretty pictures, but the old country ones have a soul - they almost live and breathe with the history and love of the men and women who put those recipes together to create satisfying and tasty meals for their loved ones. I am thankful they shared them, and as it is their legacy, I hope my little ones grow to appreciate them and prepare them with the same care. There is something very gratifying in smelling the banana bread baking and realizing that this exact same scent graced the kitchen of someone else maybe a century ago. THAT, is a legacy worth having.
This morning, not having had to arise for work (one thing I do thank the state legislature for), the kids and I lay piled in bed discussing the opportunities the day held. Jake decided he was fully prepared to make waffles for breakfast. With very little adult supervision (just enough to make sure he didn't burn himself on the waffle iron), he turned out 6 very nice, tasty waffles. He even dressed them up with syrup for Emma and I.
As if this wasn't enough to make a mama's heart swell and burst, Emma decided she wanted to bake something too. She is ambitious and enthusiastic in the kitchen, however, she is not quite ready to be turned loose on her own. I look around and it was as though the heavens opened and shined a sparkling light on the brown bananas. Emma, being young in the art of baking, looked at me somewhat skeptically.
I assured her this would work, and I skipped over to one of the cabinets of cookbooks (yes, there are multiple cabinets/bookshelves full of cookbooks in our house. I admit I have a problem - but that is a subject for another day.) I located a tattered, worn, book and carefully brought it down to the counter.
Everyone should have a cookbook like this. If you don't, you should scour used bookstores, contact small town city halls, break into church basements, or do whatever else you have to in order to find one. I have several - I actually got what I think is an entire set (four books! JACKPOT!) from my in-laws of the finest recipes Floyd County has to offer. There is one from the Clements FFA, one from the First Christian Church of Dumas, Tx, one from the Calvary Baptist Church of Dumas, TX. I'm pretty sure the Methodists are also represented somewhere in my collection.
This particular gem is the Moore County Centennial Cookbook. It is chock full of the history of Moore County, and more importantly, of the favorite recipes of its citizenry. This book was put out in 1992, but the recipes contained with in belong to ladies (and gents) who had long since passed, or who were not far from seeing what was on the other side. These are the recipes of folks who had to weather the dust bowl, droughts, depressions and other such maladies and still managed to set a fine table.
These are not recipes for petite eaters worried about their figures - these are hearty recipes for hearty people who probably figure out a way to stew up the petite ones into something quite tasty if needed to survive the winter.
This cookbook is well worn - it's had many a spill across it's pages, once caught on fire, the binder doesn't quite hold all the pages anymore. In college, I was a go-to cook for many of my friends and the source of many of the favorite recipes came from this book. After college, single life cooking limited me to potlucks and the occasional "thank you cake", but that "thank you cake" could just about get anything done I needed done by a certain warehouse crew in Houston. (Thanks, guys!!)
So, you can see it was with much love that I introduced my youngest child to the CookBook. I gently turned the pages to a banana bread recipe and started to gather the ingredients. Emma strapped on her apron and started mashing bananas like there was no tomorrow. We "measured" (real cooks know recipes amounts are just a suggestion, not a law) and sifted, beat, mashed, mixed and laughed our way through the directions. At one point Emma informed me that our aprons were getting dirty - and I was able to pass on to her useful knowledge: "A clean apron is the sign of a poor cook." She looked at me with a somewhat hesitant grin and then declared us excellent cooks.
Lest you think I am alone in cookbook hoarding - I would like to point out it is hereditary - my mama (a descendant of a long line of Kansas cooks, and a fine cook in her own right) has a collection that is even more extensive. My sister and I have been informed that we should keep our grubby little hands off them until she's gone. (We can wait - a long time hopefully.)
But, I sit here now, sipping my tea, contemplating the differences between my "chef" cookbook collection and my old country cookbooks and I know that should I ever have to part with any, the chef ones will go first. They are nice and chockfull of pretty pictures, but the old country ones have a soul - they almost live and breathe with the history and love of the men and women who put those recipes together to create satisfying and tasty meals for their loved ones. I am thankful they shared them, and as it is their legacy, I hope my little ones grow to appreciate them and prepare them with the same care. There is something very gratifying in smelling the banana bread baking and realizing that this exact same scent graced the kitchen of someone else maybe a century ago. THAT, is a legacy worth having.
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