My mother gave my sister and I small notebooks decorated with our names when I was starting high school. She said that we were each going to cook once a week. We were to tell her what we wanted to make. She would give us the recipe and we would put it in our notebook. She would buy the ingredients and we would each cook.
It ended up being every other week so that we alternated, but I still have the notebook. My mother died in 2000 of ovarian cancer. I miss her. The first recipe I chose was corned beef and cabbage.
Katherine White Burling was my maternal grandmother, and this recipe is attributed to her. I still have the small three ring binder that my mother gave me when I was in high school, explaining that my sister and I had to do some of the cooking. We told her what we wanted to make and she would write the recipe in our book and help us. I wrote this recipe out in the 1970s.
preheat the oven to 350 F
cream: 1 C sugar 1/2 C butter
while the butter is softening enough to cream, cut up fruit: apples, pears, peaches, rhubarb, or use berries…
Add to the creamed butter: 1 C flour 1 tsp baking powder salt 2 eggs
Spread in in a buttered, floured pan. Cover with chopped fruit: apples, pears, peaches. This one was local plums and blueberries.
Sprinkle with sugar and lemon juice Dot with butter on top. Bake for 30-40 minutes, depending on your oven. Cook until browned a little in the part that rises around the fruit, and when a toothpick comes out clean.
I am submitting this to today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: Kaleidoscope, because the torte reminds me of a kaleidoscope.
From the beach yesterday morning. I say still life, but there could be mites in the feather and the plants are still alive and no doubt there are lots of microscopic plants and animals in this picture. I am wondering how it is really possible to be vegan with bacteria around. Do they not count?
One of my patients eventually had to have her husband admitted to memory care. He was falling, he was angry, he outweighed her by 50 pounds and he was incontinent. When he fell, she could not get him up.
She went to our hospital Grief Group and came to see me, angry.
“They said he’s still alive!” she snarls. “I got mad and said, no, my husband is gone! He just left his body!”
“I’m so sorry.” I say. “I am sorry that they don’t understand.”
“I’m selling his stuff.” she says. “I don’t have any use for Ham Radio equipment. And HE doesn’t EITHER, now.”
She stomps out. I am sure she cried too.
That is how I think of Alzheimer’s. Neurons burning out from the present to the past. When the person can no longer talk, they are close. Then they are in the womb and stop eating.
Let them go, let them go, god bless them. Where ever they may be. You may search the wide world over but your memory person is free….
J and I did not pick these mushrooms. We only picked two kinds, that we were both sure were edible. We must have seen about 15 species or more… I feel empowered to collect mushrooms and eat those we are sure of, but I am going to be very very cautious about others.
And I have had people say that they would never eat a mushroom that someone collected. I know some of the mushroom collectors that sell to our food coop and I trust them. Do we trust things in stores more than our wilderness now? And yet some things in stores are not safe….
Discover and re-discover Mexico’s cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
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