My grandparents, on their wedding day, with Glen and Jerry Jackman. Sunday, June 9, 1940

Mr. & Mrs. Robert Gingrich, 1940

Intentions to wed, Robert P. Gingrich, 23 and Myrtle D. Berg, 22

Cherry Almond Biscotti

 

Cherry Almond Biscotti

A friend and coworker gave me some ingredients, She knows I love to bake and then bring the treats into work, This time, she gave me whole roasted almonds and a small container of Paradise Red Cherries. This recipe was included, on the lid. Since I had all of the ingredients on hand, I decided to give it a go, I've never attempted to make biscotti before, so I was eager to try. I love almond flavoring in baked goods, it's one of my favorite additions. This recipe was fairly easy to complete. Somehow, I thought biscotti would be trickier. It sure tastes good! I'm taking them to work with me later this afternoon. 

Cherry Almond Biscotti

1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter, softened

1 tsp almond extract

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 eggs

31/2 cups flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1 cup chopped almonds, toasted

8 oz Paradise Red cherry halves, chopped

Glaze: 

2 Tbs water

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In mixing bowl, add sugar, butter, almond extract, vanilla extract, and eggs. Beat uniformly. Add flour, baking powder, and baking soda. Mix well. Add almonds and chopped candied cherries. Knead 2-3 minutes. Divide in half. Roll each half into a 10x3 inch rectangle with rounded corners. Bake 25 minutes, until center of dough is firm to touch. Cool 15 minutes. Bias-cut with a serrated knife into 1/2 inch slices. Bake 15 minutes until crisp. Cool completely, Top with glaze.

 

As I sit at my desk, looking at my vision board, my gaze is set on two photos of the front of my grandparents’ house. I keep it there to bring back memories and to provide inspiration. The olive tree looms large in the front yard, the rose garden, set next to the driveway, is filled with beautiful roses in shades of pink, red and coral. The enormous orange tree stands tall and proud at the corner of the yard. It was one of the largest trees on the street. I don’t know if it was already present when they moved in in 1955 or if they planted it, I just know that it was taller than the roof of the house! That orange tree provided us a constant supply of fresh orange juice. I know that the trees’ flowers attracted bees but I do not recall them ever stinging me or bothering me, even when I played near the tree. In fact, most of the plants and trees in our yard attracted bees. Our plants, trees and grass were always lush and beautiful. Grandma and grandpa made sure of that. They spent countless hours doing yardwork. Many Saturday mornings were spent pulling weeds and tending to the vegetable garden in the back yard, behind the garage. Grandpa grew the best tasting beefsteak tomatoes! Grandma loved her spinach and strawberries. I remember her being proud of the fact that she never had to purchase either from the store. I remember having zucchini, pumpkins, and green beans also. Grandma had a love of flowers and they were in many locations in both the front yard and back yard. I think my favorites were the camelias that were planted in front of the large living room window. The bushes were tall enough to touch the roof of the house, and there were so many flowers. Sometimes, she would pick a few and float them in a glass bowl on the dining room table. She would also pick a few roses and put them in a small vase and set them on our breakfast table in the kitchen. I remember her saying that she wanted to be surrounded by fresh flowers while she was alive and not to waste money of bouquets and wreaths after she passed away someday. Such a sensible thing to say, don’t you think?

I went barefoot a lot in that wonderful yard. My feet must have been constantly dirty. The feel of the cool blades of grass, the brick walkway that led from the driveway to the front door, the indoor/outdoor carpet that was on the landing right in front of the door is a vivid memory for me. Grandma and grandpa had a gold screen door with designs of two peacocks on the lower half. I loved that screen door. I do not remember ever seeing another one like it. On the right side of the house, grandpa built a small brick pathway with a herringbone pattern, he added a brick wall and a wooden gate that was rounded at the top and had a black metal handle and latch. The gate led to the pathway to the backyard. We had to rake leaves in that area in the fall. There was a stout, healthy tree located on the property line. It shed many leaves and raking was not my favorite job. Until, that is, that grandpa bought me a kid-sized rake and boy, did I ever love to rake after that. I’d make big piles and grandpa would come behind me with a dented, old metal garbage can and put the piles inside. I can see beads of sweat on his forehead, his work clothes, dirty from working hard. He would wear old white undershirts for yardwork. And he always wore jeans and tennis shoes. Grandma liked to wear her sun hat out in the yard, she said it protected her from getting a sunburn in the bright Southern California sunshine. She always wore her gardening gloves; her nails were naturally long and beautiful so she liked to keep them protected. She had the most beautiful hands; I remember wishing that my hands looked like hers. Grandma also wore work clothes when out in the yard. Looking back, I think that their yard clothes were old camping clothes that were worn out enough to be relegated to clothes to be worn only for the messy work in the yard.

I spent an exorbitant amount of time out in that yard, the front, and the back. I loved climbing the olive tree. I had no fear as I climbed to the highest branches and played. I had a vivid imagination, I’d picture myself in the jungle with friends that were monkeys that preferred to climb olive trees over all the other trees. I’d imagine being a circus performer on my homemade swing in the backyard, and I would take my upside down frisbee and arrange leaves, pods, flowers and grass on it, as if it were a tray that a waitress would carry. Playing restaurant was fun, even if I was the only one participating. I’d put my roller skates on and go around and around our travel trailer that was always parked in front of the garage door. I would skate to the end of the driveway and back to the garage door, racing invisible competitors. Of course, I always won. I must have been a sight, covered in dirt, mussed up hair, barefoot. What a fabulous childhood I had! I remember playing outside like it was yesterday but I don’t remember taking a shower or bath afterwards. I know for a fact, I did because grandma would not have me walking about looking like a bum or hobo. I had to look presentable. It’s funny, the things that you remember and the things that just escape your memory. I remember taking bubble baths with AVON Bubble Bath when I went to visit my other grandparents, grandma Ann and grandpa Bing. She sold AVON and always had wonderful products that smelled incredible. I do remember grandpa Zim and I using the hose in the backyard to wash our hands and on hot days, we’d wash our faces too. I can still see him splashing water over his face, and using his hands to slick back his white hair, he’d then pull out a small cream colored comb from his pocket and use it to get his hair back into place. Sometimes, he wore an old fishing hat if the sun was beating down. He looked so nice in hats, even a fishing hat! I loved that grandpa could get dirty and look handsome and rugged, then clean up and wear a suit on Sundays. He always looked nice for work as well, he was a draftsman at the O.K. Earl Corporation in South Pasadena. He was the only professional person I knew that had rugged “man hands” as grandma would say. She loved his hands. She used to tell me to find a rugged man, not a man with office hands. She didn’t care for men with soft and supple hands. Grandma sure was opinionated. I miss hearing her words of wisdom and her stories. Growing up, grandma and grandpa were my favorite people. They were the ones I bonded with. I loved them, I loved our house, and I loved our yard.

Zim proposes....

 

My Grandmother's beautiful handwriting. I never tire of reading things that she has written.

I love this look back in time. When I look at these photos, I try to imagine myself there with them on this special day. I wonder what words my Grandpa chose to say. Did he rehearse how he planned to propose? Was he nervous? Did my Grandma suspect that date would be the day they became engaged? I continually hope that as I stare at these pictures, answers will come, that I will remember more details of the engagement stories that they told me.

My handsome Grandpa...Laguna Beach, California 1939

 I do know that my Grandma knew she would say yes if he ever did propose. She told me that it took him a while to have enough money to be able to support a wife, purchase a home and be independent. She was patient for the most part. I think they both knew fairly quickly after going on a few dates that their personalities meshed well, that there was a definite attraction between them. It is never difficult to imagine them being young and in love. Possibly because I've seen so many photos from their lives together, and listened to so many stories about their adventures. The word "adventurous," truly does describe the way they lived. Since they lived in Southern California, there were many places to visit and explore. And Grandma wasn't one to sit back and let the world go by. It's really no surprise that they became engaged at Laguna Beach and then spent the afternoon at Mission San Juan Capistrano. Any chance they had to see new things, experience something fun, or go for a drive, they were taking advantage of  it. Grandma often said, "Let's go on an adventure!" Sometimes, we would jump in the big gold Suburban that they had in the 70's and take a drive, with no specific destination in mind. We would end up in the desert, or pack a lunch and picnic in the local mountains, we might even find ourselves at the beach, and of course we'd have to put our feet in. It seemed that anytime we found ourselves near a body of water, Grandma would take of her shoes, roll up her pants and dip her feet in. She had an affinity for water.  I'm sure they also took spur of the moment trips when they were a young couple. Grandpa said that taking spontaneous little drives was how they saw many of the popular tourist destinations in California.

Young and beautiful...

 

Mission San Juan Capistrano

 I love the clothing from this time period. I think my Grandma did as well. She saved quite a few blouses and skirts for many years, even after they were out of style. Grandpa told me, on more than one occasion, that he loved her figure. She was gorgeous...about 5'2", barely 100 pounds when they got married, beautiful shoulder length brown hair, olive complexion, hazel eyes. He felt that he was a lucky man. Not only did she have outward beauty, she also had a fun personality. A perfect match for my handsome Grandpa, tall and slender, auburn hair, fair skin, piercing blue eyes and a stunning smile. Quite the catch! This photo of him with the birds brings to mind of one of his best qualities; his love of animals. Throughout his entire life, he had such a compassion and kindness for all animals. It was a great thing to witness. Cats, dogs, rabbits, even horses. He was always so gentle with any animal he came into contact with.

Mission San Juan Capistrano

Seeing my grandma laugh in this photo brings a smile to my face. I miss her laughter. She had such a silly streak. She could be serious one minute, then find something funny and the seriousness would be gone instantly. I love the fountain and palm trees behind her, the birds, her smile. Everything about this photo makes me happy. I wish I could hear her tell me about this day again. 

Still enjoying life and having fun after more than fifty years together.

They never did lose their desire for adventure. Even well into their eighties, they were still driving 40 miles once a week to go to dinner and play cards with friends. They still enjoyed evening walks around their neighborhood. They even went to Disneyland by themselves for their anniversary one year. Knowing them as well as I do, I'm not sure why I was surprised when they told me about their trip to Disneyland. It wasn't out of character for them. They would also go to Palm Springs twice a year to stay in a friends' time share condo. I can only hope to be as active as they were.
I'm not sure where this last photo was taken but I do know that wherever there was a body of water....Grandma was sure to have her shoes off and her feet wet!

Courting in the 1930's

Courting: on a date at Balboa Island, late 1930's

 Growing up in their home I remember looking at this photograph and thinking it was sweet but I don't think I understood it completely. I knew the two people pictured where my grandparents but when you see them as parental figures, both in their 50's, it's difficult to imagine them as a young couple, kissing on the boardwalk. This was the beginning of my grandparents relationship. These are the days that they fell in love. Zim and Myrtle had their whole lives ahead of them. Possibility. Wonder. Excitement.

Myrtle and Zim, the beginning....

The time period was the late 1930's. They had both graduated from High School. And as fate would have it, they both worked at Kresses', a small department store in Alhambra, California. My grandpa worked in the back of the store, in the stockroom. He also made deliveries. Grandma worked at the glass counters in the front. She told me that her job was to sell gloves, hats, jewelry and other small items. There are no photos of the inside of that store but because I've heard stories and seen photos of similar stores from that time, I see it as if I'm watching a movie. I hear my grandparents voices while their are having conversations with customers. I can clearly picture my Grandpa lifting heavy boxes in the back of the delivery truck, my Grandma modeling a watch or a pair of gloves for a customer. As I've mentioned before, employees at Kresses were not allowed to date one another. It was strictly forbidden. Mrs. Dunn would not allow fraternizing among her workers. When Grandpa was in his 90's, I asked him to once again,  tell me the story of how they met...and he talked about "Old Lady Dunn" with the same disdain after all those years. She was quite a character. A bit rotund, as Grandpa would say. She apparently ran the store like a Navy ship. You either did things her way or you were told to leave. I don't even need a photo of Mrs. Dunn, after all of the stories I've heard, I can clearly picture her in my mind. Yes, my sweet grandparents broke the rules and hid their relationship. They dated in secret. My Grandma often said, "I wasn't going to let anyone tell me what to do!" She was feisty. She had spunk and I guess you can even say she had "attitude." Definitely not the same type of attitude as the young girls of today. She still had excellent manners. She just had her own way of doing things and was determined to do them. I really think that I learned this from her. Although, I could use a refresher course on the manners portion at times. Grandpa was a sweet, kind soul. He was gentle, somewhat soft spoken but still opinionated. I only saw him angry a handful of times in my whole life.  I see why she was attracted to him. I imagine their innocent flirting, their smiles to one another. The first time they held hands, their very first kiss.

"Brought me home from Kresses' in his dad's new Ford. Fooled me, I thought it was his."

 

When my Grandma was in her 70's, she decided to make an album of their lives. She organized all of the photos and then used a small felt marker to write notes and descriptions on the pages. I lost count of how many times I looked through that album. When she first showed it to me, we must have sat in the living room for hours while she told me the stories behind the photos. This was one of my favorites. Grandma had dated a man before she met my Grandpa. He did not own a car, so all of their dates were either walking to their destination or riding their bicycles. She said she wasn't going to do that again. She wanted to date a man with a car! Then, along came Zim. Handsome, young, strong, and he was nice! What a catch, she said. She was even more excited when he drove her home one evening, in a new Ford. Of course, after several dates, it was revealed that the car belonged to his father. Grandma said, "So much for that!" Yet, she continued to date him. She told me, "At that point, I was sunk. I already liked him."

Myrtle and Zim. I guess they were meant to be together. Grandpa also dated someone else before Grandma. He told me that she was beautiful but they didn't have that something special that he had with my Grandma. They just seemed made for one another. Of course, their relationship wasn't perfect. None are. But they were married for 67 years. No huge arguments, no separations, just a solid marriage. Every marriage begins somewhere...this was their beginning.

Indian Spiced Curry Turkey Soup

Indian Spiced Curry Turkey Soup

New recipes make me happy. When I'm trying a new recipe for the very first time, I get a feeling similar to the feelings one has while opening a birthday present. Excitement. A bit of anxiety, because I'm not sure how it will turn out. And joy. Who doesn't love a gift of something new? Just like a birthday present, a new recipe brings excitement. And the possibility of adding a new meal to our repertoire. Wisdom from my Grandma: always be willing to try new foods. Even if it is just once. Even if you don't like the look of it. Even if it is an exotic, rare food. I would say that is very good advice. Our meals should be an adventure. We all have our favorite stand by meals that we can put together quickly, meals that we know our families enjoy. But every now and then, we should add something different to the mix. A meal, an ingredient, a spice or herb. A guaranteed way to get stuck in a food rut is to prepare the same things continuously.
Growing up, I knew my Grandpa didn't care for curry or anything with a curry flavor. I knew this because we never had any meals with curry included. I remember trying Indian food as a teenager and really being intrigued by the intensity and complexity of the flavors. My husband actually found this recipe in an old issue of Muscle & Fitness magazine. He brought the opened magazine to me and suggested we try this recipe. With our current weather of single digit temperatures at night, soup is always a good choice. We both agreed that this recipe is a keeper. I could easily make this once a month. I hope you'll give it a try. And if you do, please let me know what you think. I'd love to have some feedback.
Happy Cooking!

Indian Spiced Curry Turkey Soup

1 Tbsp olive oil
1 small yellow onion, chopped
2 Tbsp chopped ginger
1/4 tsp chili flakes (I used 1/2 tsp)
1 tsp mustard seed
2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp tumeric
1 small tomato, chopped (I used grape tomatoes, cut in half)
2 cups chopped cooked turkey or chicken
1 cup plain low fat yogurt, divided
1 1/2 cups chicken stock
2 Tbsp cilantro, chopped (I used a bit extra, simply because I love cilantro)
1 jalepeno, chopped (optional)

1. Heat a medium or large stockpot to medium heat. Add olive oil and onion, and cook until light golden brown.

2. Add ginger and all spices. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally.

3. Then add tomato, turkey, most of yogurt and chicken stock and bring soup to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for about 15 minutes.

4 Garnish with remaining yogurt, cilantro and jalepeno.

Serves 4
365 calories per serving

Cookies and Friendship

Ghirardelli White Chocolate Chip and Macadamia Cookies

 Once in a while, I get this funny intuition sort of thing that says "Bake some cookies for your friends." It usually happens when I'm busy cleaning or occupied with another household chore. Sometimes, I am sure it comes from knowing my friends and the things they are going through. Other times, I get that feeling because I like to make people smile. I love to bake. And I love to give. The two go together so well. I can bake an entire batch of cookies and share them with others, rather than keep them all in my kitchen. If I did that, I know for a fact they would get eaten. My husband and I certainly do not need 5 dozen cookies sitting on the counter calling to us as we walk by. We truly lack will power when it comes to sweets. By sharing, I can enjoy one or two cookies and send the rest to those that need some cheer or just a little reminder that someone is thinking of them.

Cookies really are simple to bake. I've never understood the pre-made dough at the grocery store. It just does not taste good. I guess I enjoy the process of baking so much that I don't mind the time it takes. I'd rather pass on having  the convenience of store-bought cookie dough. Plus, when you don't make them from scratch, there is no dough to lick off of the beaters! That has always been my favorite part. According to friends, I have pretty much mastered chocolate chip cookies so I thought I would try a variation of that. Walking down the aisle at the store, this package of Ghirardelli White Chocolate Chips practically jumped off the shelf and into my basket. I just had to buy them. Macadamia nuts seem to go really well with white chocolate so my decision was made. There is nothing better than the aroma of cookies baking in the oven. When you're trying to watch your calorie intake, it can prove to be excruciating torture though. Not something I recommend. Hence, one of the many reasons to give the cookies away. Package them up quickly and declare the containers off limits. Of course, that does not always work. Especially when one lives with a man with a horrible sweet tooth. I did offer him two fresh from the oven and I think that satiated him for the moment.

The next day was cookie delivery day. This is the best part! I am friends with a couple that are a little older than me, okay...maybe 20 years older than me. Don and I used to take a watercolor class together. And Sally is just as adorable as can be. Don's had some health issues recently and Sally's been taking care of her mother. I knew they desperately needed cookies. When life gets rough, eat cookies, right? I knocked on the door, handed Sally a container of freshly baked cookies and for a moment, all was right with the world. She invited me in and had me deliver the container to Don, who was in the den watching football. It was a Sunday, I think all men must watch football on Sundays. I wish I had a photo of the expression on his face. Truly priceless. I love the element of surprise. I had previously mentioned to Sally that I might bake them a batch of cookies some time, but I didn't say when. But Don had no idea. His entire face lit up, he got out of his chair to give me the best bear hug any girl could ask for. Cookies really aren't a fancy, expensive gift. They aren't difficult to make and they don't require an enormous commitment of your time. While I'm sure the cookies tasted good (because I sampled them...quality control, you know) I believe that it's the thoughtful gesture that says so much. I treasure my friendship with them. I enjoy their company and I've learned so much from both of them. I think a batch of cookies was the perfect gift on a cold winter day.

This recipe made 5 dozen cookies. That is a lot of cookies. I was able to make a smaller container for two other couples. I headed over to Holly and Menzie's house. They had no idea I was coming, which made it even more fun. They were also watching the football game. And enjoying a nice afternoon drink. Holly loves cookies but doesn't bake often. So, I came to the rescue. We chatted for a few minutes, they invited me to stay for a drink. If it hadn't been a work day for us, I would have loved to stay and visit a while. Holly and Menzie are also a bit older than me. And I absolutely love talking to them. I could spend an entire day with the two of them, asking questions, sharing stories, and listening. I would do a lot of listening. I have such fascinating friends. I checked back a few days later and the cookies did not last long. Not with Holly around. Knowing that my cookies made them both smile really was the highlight of my day.

I had one last container of cookies to deliver to my dear friend Tami. I've known her for about five years. We met at a Highland Games. She is incredibly talented and creative. She had a booth there with all handmade items. She's currently working on getting her PhD. It may seem rude to some, but I never call before stopping by at her house. I don't think she minds. In fact, it's more fun for both of us when there is that added element of surprise. As soon as she came to the door and saw a container of cookies in my hand, she asked me how I knew she needed them? There goes my intuition again. I can't explain it, I just felt it. I've delivered many goodies to her before, and each time, it just seems right. We hugged and I handed her the cookies. I didn't stay long. Again, I wish I could have but work was waiting. She knows how much I care for her and think of her. Even without the cookies, she knows.

One of the many things that my Grandma taught me was how important it is to have friends. And not just a few friends that you have everything in common with. She encouraged me to have many friends, to search out diversity, to listen to their stories. I learned to volunteer and be of service from realizing that everyone benefits from it. The giver, the receiver and those that are witness to the experience. You can never go wrong when you share.

Ghirardelli Macadamia White Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened ( I always use real butter when baking. Margarine just doesn't cut it.)
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar, packed
2 eggs, room temperature
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3 cups unsifted flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 cups (one 11 oz bag) Ghirardelli Classic White Chips
1 1/2 cups Macadamia nuts, chopped

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and sugars until fluffy. Add vanilla and eggs, one at a time, and beat well. Blend in flour, baking soda and salt. Stir in white chips and nuts. Drop by rounded teaspoons onto ungreased cookie sheets. (I always use Parchment Paper) Bake for 10-12 minutes.

Makes 5 dozen cookies

Winter sunset at Rock Creek

Enchilada Casserole

Do you want a meal that is under 400 calories per serving, yet packed with flavor? Then this is a great recipe for you! Nothing fancy or overly complicated, just hearty, filling and incredibly delicious. At my request, my husband often searches through some of my cookbooks for meals he would like to try. It is better to have his input since he is the one that will be eating whatever I end up preparing. No point in making something he doesn't like. But after more than two decades together, I have a good idea of the type of food he likes. Once in a while I will prepare a recipe that isn't normally something he would eat, just to see if his tastes have changed. And I will admit, sometimes I do it to see if he notices. I've been known to hide carrots in a stew by shredding them, and adding pureed squash to soups. He never seems to notice. Imagine that.

 In many of my cookbooks, certain recipes will have a little star beside them. This means they are hubby approved and I can feel free to make them anytime. If there are two stars, then that is considered a true winner that I can make as often as I please. Some people are adamantly against writing in any sort of book. But for me, writing in the margins of my cookbooks personalizes them. When someone gives me a cookbook that they no longer want or need, I always search for their personal notes. It means so much to see someones handwriting, thoughts and suggestions along side of the recipes. I'm guessing that someday, someone will wonder who wrote all of the little stars in all of my cookbooks. Maybe I should write a note on the inside cover about those little stars....

Enchilada Casserole

1 lb ground turkey
1 large red onion, chopped
2 cups chipotle salsa
1 can chipotle pinto beans, drained
1 pkg taco seasoning
1/4 tsp ground cumin
6 flour tortillas (8 inch) I used low carb tortillas
3/4 cup reduced fat sour cream
1 cup shredded low fat cheddar cheese
1 cup shredded romaine lettuce
1 medium tomato, chopped (I used cherry tomatoes)
1/4 cup minced cilantro

1. In a large skillet, cook beef and onion over medium heat until meat is no longer pink; drain. Stir in the salsa, beans, taco seasoning and cumin. Place a layer of tortillas in a 2-qt baking dish coated with cooking spray. Layer with half of the meat mixture, sour cream and cheese. Repeat layers.

2. Cover and bake at 400 degrees for 25 minutes. Uncover; bake 5-10 minutes longer or until heated through. Let stand for 5 minutes before topping with lettuce, tomato and cilantro.

3. Pull up a chair and join us for dinner! This was two star recipe!

Irish Stew

Delicious Irish Stew

"When a man's stomach is full it makes no difference whether he is rich or poor." 

                                                                ~Euripedes

Winter is in full swing at Rock Creek. Temperatures have been dropping in to the single digits during the night. For me, cold weather has always meant hearty stews, soups, chilis and chowder. One of my cookbooks has over 500 recipes for soup! As most of you know, I'm always searching for new recipes. I've never prepared Irish Stew before and when my husband chose this, I decided it was time to give it a try. I'm not sure how traditional this version is, considering that is comes from an American cookbook but I'm incredibly pleased with the results. The meat was tender, the vegetables were not overcooked, the flavor was perfect. I don't think I would change a thing. And it took less than two hours to prepare. Now don't get alarmed, an hour of that was simmer time for the lamb. And the last 20 minutes were for the vegetables to cook. 

While watching a cooking show, the host gave the advice to get all of your ingredients and supplies out and have them handy before you even begin preparing the recipe. I have always been organized in the kitchen and I thought I was efficient. When I began following that host's advice, I realized how much time it saved. Every minute counts when you have hungry husbands waiting for their meal. (He helps in the kitchen most of the time, I'm just using him as an example.) 

I definitely think that I will be making this recipe again. Don't you love it when you see something in a cookbook, decide to try it, buy all of the necessary ingredients, go through the process of preparing it and find out that it's exactly what you had hoped for? It doesn't always happen, but boy, when it does, it's time to celebrate! 

Irish Stew

1/3 cup plus 1 tbs all purpose flour, divided

1 1/2 lbs lamb stew meat, cut into 1 inch cubes

3 tbs olive oil, divided

3 medium onions, chopped

3 garlic cloves, minced

4 cups reduced sodium beef broth

2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed

4 medium carrots, cut into 1 inch pieces (I cut them into smaller pieces, hubby doesn't care for them so I do my best to hide them.)

1 cup frozen peas

1 tsp salt

1 tsp dried thyme

1/2 tsp pepper (I always use a bit more than it calls for)

1 tsp Worcestershire sauce

2 tbs water

1. Place 1/3 cup flour in a large resalable plastic bag. Add lamb, a few peieces at a time, and shake to coat. 

2. In a Dutch oven, brown lamb in batches in 2 tbs oil. Remove and set aside. In the same pan, saute onions in remaining oil until tender. Add garlic; cook 1 minute longer. 

3. Add broth, stirring to loosen browned bits from pan. Return lamb to the pan. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer for 1 hour or until meat is tender. 

4. Add potatoes and carrots; cover and cook 20 minutes. Stir in peas; cook until vegetables are tender. 

5. Add seasonings and Worcestershire sauce. Combine remaining flour with water until smooth; stir into the stew. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. 

Yield 8 servings (2 1/2 quarts)

Grandma Ina's Peanut Butter Balls

This is one of my favorite recipes. And I look forward to making these every year. My Grandma didn't make Christmas candy, she preferred baking cookies. So when I met my husband and realized that his Grandma always made candy at Christmas time, I was more than excited. Her given name was Alexanderina but everyone called her Ina. Grandma Ina was a really good cook and and even better candy maker and cookie baker. She was from Aberdeen, Scotland and even though she had lived in this country for more than half of her life, she still had a very strong accent and often used Scottish slang words and even Gaelic in conversation. As you can imagine, it was always entertaining to talk with her. She insisted that this recipe came from Scotland, but I'm not so sure about that. I'm wondering if they make Rice Krispies in Scotland. If one is wise, they will never argue with a Scottish woman. At least if they know what's good for them. I never questioned her about the true origin of this recipe. And I won't even tell you my suspicions. She had it memorized but she also had it written on a very worn and discolored index card. I could barely read her writing, so when she said she wanted me to write it down and try to make them, I did my best to copy  the measurements and directions  correctly. I must've been successful because the recipe always turns out right. Years ago, when my husband was growing up, his Grandma would fill coffee cans with these Peanut Butter Balls, her famous fudge, and several other creations from her kitchen. She saw him, rifling through the can, searching for the Peanut Butter Balls and she asked him why he was doing that, didn't he like the other treats in the coffee can? He very carefully said, "No, not really." He didn't want to hurt her feelings. He was her first grandchild, and they had a special bond. From that year on, his Christmas Coffee Can of goodies only contained Peanut Butter Balls. I'm thinking that he was a bit spoiled. I think that she would have been the first one to admit that. I always enjoyed seeing them together. She loved hearing his impression of a Scottish accent. When she became upset or excited, her accent was even thicker. I will never forget hearing her laugh. I wish I could accurately describe it. Light, joyful and infectious. Simply filled with happiness. My husband would say something funny or tell a joke and once she started laughing, she couldn't stop. She could barely catch her breath.

Our daughter was her first great grandchild and she absolutely loved when we would visit. She took so many photos of her as she grew older. This photo was one of her favorites. I can see why. Grandma Ina looks completely and utterly happy with her great granddaughter. I think she would be pleased that her recipe is being shared with so many people. She passed away before Facebook was created. I wonder what she would have thought of my blog and that she is being included in it. I'm smiling, imagining that she would want me to interview her so that I could write many stories about her. She loved telling stories. What a sweet woman. I hope that this making this recipe and sharing these treats with your family and friends makes you smile like it does our family. From our home to yours....

Grandma Ina's Peanut Butter Balls

1/2 cup real butter
1 lb. powdered sugar
3 cups Rice Krispies
2 cups Creamy Peanut Butter (I always use 2 1/4 cups)
1 tsp vanilla

1/2 bar parafin wax
12 oz chocolate chips

In a large bowl, cream together (with hands) butter, sugar, peanut butter and vanilla. Add Rice Krispies, Form into small walnut sized balls and set on a sheet of waxed paper. Meanwhile, in a double boiler, melt wax and chocolate chips. Remove from heat once completely melted. Using tongs, drop balls one at a time  into chocolate to coat and set on waxed paper to dry. Store in airtight container. Lately, I've drizzled stripes of chocolate across the top of the balls. It seems to add a bit of pizazz. I just can't get away from using words that my Grandma used. Pizazz. Who talks like that nowadays? I guess I do. I also like a word that my Grandpa Zim used...Snicklefritz. He called me that when I was little. Good memories.

Also note the glass serving dish in the first photo. That belonged to my Grandma. I love that I have some of her things. Using them makes my heart smile. My Grandma Myrtle also loved Grandma Ina's Peanut Butter Balls. They only met a few times but enjoyed one another's company. Women from that generations seem so polite and well mannered. There are a lot of lessons we could learn from them.

Baked Potato Soup

It is that time of year when most of us crave hearty, rich soups and stews. Several years back, I bought a cookbook with over 500 recipes for soups, chilis, stews and chowders. This morning, I handed the book to my husband and told him to choose which recipe he would like me to try for dinner tonight. He chose two and let me decide. He truly is a meat and potatoes type of guy and this Baked Potato Soup is thick, creamy and incredibly filling, perfect for a chilly night when the snow is falling.

Baked Potato Soup

2/3 cup butter
2/3 cup all purpose flour
7 cups milk (I used whole milk for a richer taste)
4 large baking potatoes, baked, cooled, peeled and cubed (about 4 cups)
6 green onions, sliced
12 bacon strips, cooked and crumbled
1-1/4 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup (8oz) sour cream
3/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper

In a large soup kettle or Dutch oven, melt the butter. Stir in flour; heat and stir until smooth. Gradually add milk, stirring constantly until thickened. Add potatoes and onions.

Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat, simmer for 10 minutes. Add remaining ingredients; stir until cheese is melted. Serve immediately. Yield 8-10 servings (2-1/2 quarts)

Spinach and Bacon Bread

What could be better on a cold winter night than some fresh bread with a bowl of stew of soup? I found this recipe in one of my cookbooks and decided to give it a try. I was pleased with the results. This particular recipe makes two loaves, so I was able to  freeze one for later use and it thawed out perfectly. Since my Grandma passed away back in 2007, I have tried to incorporate as many new recipes into our routine as possible. She would be proud of me for trying so many new dishes. She had her favorite meals that she prepared often but she was always searching for something different to add in to the mix. I remember the time she made frogs legs. I was 7 or 8 at the time. Of course she couldn't tell me what we were actually eating so said that it was chicken. I believed her through the entire meal. It did taste like chicken so why doubt her? After we finished with dinner, she told me the truth. I can't recall if I became upset or not. She made them a few other times so I must have been fine with it. I was pretty good about trying new foods. We had a fig tree and I absolutely loved eating them right from the tree. Our next door neighbors had an avocado tree and we would pick those that were on our side of the fence. Many times I went to school with a mashed avocado sandwich. And yes, the kids did make fun of me for it. It bothered me, but not enough to not eat my sandwich. Avocados are delicious. Yes, Grandma Myrt would be really proud of me. I love to cook and I enjoy trying new recipes. She taught me well.
I hope you'll give this recipe a try. So much better than any store bought bread.

Spinach and Bacon Bread

scant 2 cups warm water
2 tsp active dry yeast
pinch of sugar
1 tbs olive oil
1 onion, chopped
4 ounces Canadian bacon slices, chopped
8 ounces chopped spinach, thawed if frozen
6 cups bread flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp grated nutmeg
1/4 cup grated reduced-fat Cheddar cheese

1. Put the water in a bowl. Sprinkle the yeast on top and add the sugar. Mix well and let sit for 10 minutes. Lightly grease two 9-inch cake pans.

2. Heat the oil in a frying pan and fry the onion and Canadian bacon for 10 minutes, until golden brown. Meanwhile, if using frozen spinach, drain it thoroughly.

3. Sift the flour, salt and nutmeg into a mixing bowl and make a well in the center. Add the yeast mixture. Tip in the fried bacon and onion (with the oil), then add the spinach. Gradually incorporate the flour mixture and mix to a soft dough.

4. Transfer the dought to a floured surface and knead for 5 minutes, until smooth and elastic. Return to the clean bowl, cover with a damp dish towel and set aside in a warm pleace to rise for about 2 hours, until doubled in bulk.

5. Transfer the dough to a floured surface, knead briefly, then divide it in half. Shape each half into a ball, flatten slightly and place in a pan, pressing the dough so that it extends to the edges. Mark each loaf into eight wedges and sprinkle with the cheese. Cover loosely with a plastic bag and set aside in a warm place until well risen. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

6. Bake the loaves for 25-30 minutes, or until they sound hollow when they are tapped underneath. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

Bob's Favorite Bavarian Apple Torte

Bavarian Apple Torte, served on my Grandma Myrtle's beautiful glass serving dish.

This is the recipe some of you have been waiting for....Bavarian Apple Torte!! Wow, is this good! My husband and I have a dear friend that loves my cooking, even my leftovers. He is a bachelor, and loves to cook for himself but a bit of variety never hurt anyone, so I share with him. He isn't big on sweets, except this recipe. He loves this torte. For the last three years I have made this for him in the Fall. I've been known to bribe him with this dessert. A bit of help with chores for a torte? He always agrees to anything when food is involved! This is the perfect mix of sweet, tart and rich. The more tart the apple, the better it will go with the sweetness of the cheesecake-like filling. A perfect Fall and Winter dessert and it really is more simple than you would think.

Ready to go in the oven. Who needs scented candles or potpourri when you can bake desserts that smell as good as this does? 

Bavarian Apple Torte

3/4 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Filling:
2 packages (8 oz each) cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
3/4 tsp vanilla extract

Topping:
3 cups thinly sliced peeled tart apples
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon

Directions:
Combine the first four ingredients. Press onto the bottom of an ungreased 9 inch springform pan. In a bowl, beat cream cheese and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla; mix well. Pour over the crust. Combine topping ingredients; spoon over filling. Bake at 350 F for 55-65 minutes or until the center is set. Cool on a wire rack. Store in the refrigerator. Cut into wedges with a serrated knife. Yield 12-14 servings.

Even a tight fitting springform pan may leak. To prevent drips, place the pan on a baking sheet in the oven. Also, be sure to use a 9 inch pan. Anything smaller will result in the crust being too thick.

Recipe from Taste of Home.

No Boxed Stuffing at Grandma's House!

One cannot have a holiday dinner without stuffing. It seems that the only times to prepare stuffing are for Thanksgiving and Christmas. That is how it was done when I was growing up. From what I can remember, Grandma usually made her Moist Bread Stuffing. It had the best aroma while cooking. And sometimes, I was lucky enough to help her chop the celery and onions. She trusted me with a knife at a pretty young age, after a few lessons of course. I loved her butcher knife. It had years of use, the handle was worn down in places but the blade was as sharp as if it were brand new. I remember shopping for holiday meals with her. She'd always buy a loaf of French bread for her stuffing. No boxed stuffing for our family. Everything was from scratch, even if it took more time. She said it was worth it. There were some convenience foods that she would use but not very often. I remember that she used her electric knife to cube the bread. When I hear that sound, I'm taken right back to childhood on Volante Drive. It's interesting how sounds and smells will bring back such vivid memories. That happens to me often. When I made this recipe for Thanksgiving this year, I had Bing Crosby playing on my Ipad, I was using many of my Grandparents kitchen gadgets and at one point, tears started to well up in my eyes, not the sort of tears that come from sadness though. These tears were from a place of gratitude. I felt incredibly thankful to have had such a rich and blessed childhood with these two people. I have many special memories to look back on. Treasured moments, words exchanged, comforting hugs, security. Continuing family traditions is necessary for me to handle life without them. I find peace when I do something as simple as prepare one of the recipes that Grandma made. Life is still good. I am happy and blessed. Memories keep me grounded. And I have amazing ones.

I hope you enjoy my grandma's recipe. It was our family's favorite.

Moist Bread Stuffing

1 cup butter
2 cups diced celery
1 1/2 cups chopped onions
1/4 cup minced parsely
2 1/4 tsp salt
2 tsp poultry seasoning
1/2 tsp pepper
18 cups French bread cubes
3 eggs, slightly beaten

1. In 8 qt Dutch oven over medium heat, in hot butter, cook celery and onions until tender, about 10 minutes.
2. Add parsley, salt, poultry seasoning and pepper; stir until thoroughly mixed.
3. Stir in bread cubes and eggs; mix together well.

Bake in a covered, greased casserole dish for 30-45 minutes.

I generally pour chicken broth over the top of the stuffing before baking. It is something that I always saw Grandma do. It seems to add extra moisture to the bread without leaving it soggy. 

Grandma Myrtle's "Famous" Pumpkin Pie

Oh yes, Pumpkin Pie. An autumn tradition for so many families. Even today, when I have a pie baking in the oven, the aroma wafting through the house floods my mind with memories of holidays past. I remember my Grandma baking several pies each Thanksgiving and her Pumpkin Pie was always my favorite. Just like so many of the dishes she made, I have no idea where the original recipe came from. She was a notorious newspaper and magazine recipe clipper. I have two file boxes filled with recipes that she had clipped and saved. Many of them tattered, the colors faded with age. Many have handwritten notes in the margins, which makes them that much more special. For all I know, this recipe for her "Famous" Pumpkin Pie could have come off of a can of pureed pumpkin that you can purchase in the grocery store. I don't think that makes her recipe any less special though. It would be just like her to tell everyone it was a special recipe, one that she created. And because it tasted so good, everyone would believe her. She used the same recipe for as long as I can remember, and I'm sure even before I was born. Grandma didn't have a large kitchen. Her house was built in the late 40's and the kitchens were not part of a "great room", like they are today. It was it's own room, separate from the dining room. Even with limited space, she managed to prepare meals for holidays with no problem. From a very young age, I remember being fascinated with watching her prepare food, especially large meals. She was so organized. She would write out a list of the dishes she would be cooking, and another list for items she needed to buy. Before heading to the store, she would check her cupboards for items on the list. Why buy something you already have on hand? I must have paid closer attention than I thought, because I'm finding myself doing the same thing.
I loved experiencing the Fall season while living at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Helping Grandpa Zim rake leaves and put them in the metal trash cans. Hearing Grandma say "Put your sweater on, you'll catch a chill." Fall meals were some of my favorites. She always made more soups and stews in the Fall. I loved when she'd make Chicken and Dumplings. I asked her for the recipe when I had grown up and had my family to cook for. She replied, "Oh, that? I don't have a recipe for that. I just throw a smidgen of this and a tidbit of that in the pot." I can tell you that I was a little frustrated that she couldn't just hand me a recipe to copy. I was a young woman, not experienced enough to successfully throw anything together without ending up with a complete disaster. She had been cooking for 60 plus years by that time and was an expert at knowing what ingredients to add, how long to cook it and what seasonings to add. I, on the other hand, needed much guidance. Especially when it came to her treasured Chicken and Dumplings. My first attempt at dumplings was not good. Not good at all. Looking back, I feel rather ridiculous. I can see what I did wrong. They turned out like big balls of uncooked dough that were warm on the outside and mushy and sticky on the inside. I mustered up the courage to call my Grandma and tell her about my horrible dumplings. After a little giggle, she assured me that she also had many cooking disasters. I can't think of a single one. Maybe she hid them well. She always appeared to have it all together, so competent and in control of her kitchen. I can't even picture her making a mistake. I'm sure I'll think of one...no one is perfect, right? Except Grandma's. Most Grandma's are perfect. Hmm. I'll  share her "Famous" Pumpkin Pie with you while I try to remember any cooking disasters to come out of her kitchen. I may be thinking for a while.

Grandma Myrtle's "Famous" Pumpkin Pie

2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 cup pureed pumpkin, or plain canned pumpkin
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp flour
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups evaporated milk
1 pie crust, homemade or refrigerated pie crust

Preheat oven to 375 degress F

Mix all ingredients with mixer until well blended. Pour into pie shell. Cover edges of pie crust to keep from browning.
Bake for 70 minutes.
Makes one unbelievably delicious pumpkin pie.
Enjoy!!!
Bake for 70 minutes. 

Autumn Potato Gratin

Years ago, we had dinner with friends and they prepared the best tasting potato casserole. I asked for the recipe and have been preparing it for special occasions and most holidays ever since. (I promise to post the recipe here at some point)
 This year, since Thanksgiving would be celebrated with just my husband and myself, I decided to try something new. I really like Rachel Ray's recipes and I found this dish on www.foodnetwork.com. It's incredibly creamy, cheesy and rich. And well worth the extra calories. This is definitely a special occasion dish. Although it is simple to prepare, and incredibly delicious, it's the sort of dish that merits only being made for special days. Another plus, I grew some herbs over the summer and brought them in for the winter. I had four large pots with beautiful herbs happily growing in them, sitting in my kitchen window, waiting to be used. This recipe calls for sage, thyme and rosemary. All three were right here, fresh and ready. Of course, we had plenty of leftovers and I'm happy to report that they heat up well and the consistency and flavors stay the same. I hope you enjoy making this.

Autumn Potato Gratin

8 servings

4 lbs mixed baby potatoes, such as Red Bliss. Peruvian Purples, and Fingerlings
2 cups heavy cream, plus some to cover
4 tbs butter (1/2 stick)
2 sprigs each fresh thyme, sage, and rosemary
2 garlic cloves, cracked
Salt and pepper
1/2 cup grated Parmesan

Directions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Halve the potatoes and toss them into a large baking dish and season with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, put the cream, butter, herbs, and garlic in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Cook for about 5 minutes, to infuse the cream with flavor. Season with salt and pepper.

Pour the hot cream mixture through a strainer over the potatoes, (discard the herbs and garlic), if there is not enough cream to go 3/4 of the way up the potatoes then pour some additional cream on top to make up the difference. Sprinkle the Parmesan evenly over the top. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until the potatoes are cooked through and the top begins to brown. Cover and keep warm until ready to serve.

It's Elf Season!

 Today is a big day. For the last several years, I have been Santa's Elf. Today is our first appearance of the month. We spoke on the phone yesterday, and reminded one another of how important this is to so many children, and parents. Santa (Rick) and I were friends before we began this adventure. We make appearances all over this little town, the DHS Foster Family Christmas Party, both of the local assisted living facilities, the library, a local toy shop, we even make visits to the courthouse, city hall and the police station. Rick is retired law enforcement and feels that it is important to visit the employees to express our thanks for all of hard work. Even something as simple as a candy cane and a smile can make such a difference. Today, we are a part of the annual Festival of Trees Family Day and our local Kiwanis Club is offering photos with Santa. I wrote the following story, Elf Magic, two years ago, after a day of posing for photos and visiting with children. I hope that you can feel the magic of this season.

Elf Magic

by Marna Fahrney on Wednesday, 08 December 2010 

I woke up with butterflies, filled with excitement. As I ate breakfast, I recalled the conversation that Rick (Santa) and I had the week before. He called to remind me that on this day, we were to leave all troubles, worries and personal issues aside and become Santa and his Elf. This day was important. This day was magical, spiritual. He then told me that we would be remembered for a lifetime in some of these children's hearts. What a wonderful man he is, to take on the task of becoming Santa with such respect and responsibility.

I had laid out my Elf Costume the night before. Jingly hat, Red knickers, Elf Booties, all in red and green, of course. I braided my hair, added sparkly eyeshadow and glitter to my everyday make up, because everyone knows that Elves sparkle. Still feeling butterflies, I gathered the rest of my things and headed into town. Stopping at the store for a few 'extras', I noticed the peculiar looks from adults. I guess it takes the mind and heart of a child to truly understand the enchantment of an Elf.

The snow was gently falling which added even more of a sense of wonder to the day. I knew that I was ready for whatever was in store.

Our photographer specializes in families and children and we knew that she was going to capture some amazing memories today. The Santa Photo staff, members of our local Kiwanis Club were setting up and preparing for the arrival of the many children, eager to tell Santa what they wanted. Order forms, check, printers and paper, check, photographer, check, Santa and his Elf, check....5,4,3,2,1....GO!

We saw the usual type of child, excited to spend a few minutes with jolly ol' St. Nick, and of course, the little ones that would scream at the very sight of him. A few even remembered me from last year, which of course, confirmed the actual existence of Elves in their minds. As the children stood in line, I approached them and bent down, so that I was at their level. The smile in my heart spread to my face and I asked if they were ready to see Santa. Some of the children said that they were scared and did their best to hide behind the legs of any nearby adult. I gently peered around the adult and told them that I had something special that would take away all of their scared feelings. I pulled out a small jar of Magic Elf Dust from my pocket and opened the lid. Asking them to hold out their hands, I sprinkled the sparkly magic onto their heads and let it fall onto their hands. I wanted to know if they felt scared now, they shook their heads and we grasped hands and walked slowly over to where Santa sat in his large chair. The magic was working...we could all feel it. The pictures were the proof and the looks on the children's faces was the icing on the cake.Some of the children brought gifts to Santa, one that stands out was a small bag of carrots for the Reindeer. A few brought special artwork that they had created just for Santa, a few had written out their lists and one even brought a melted piece of candy that looked partially eaten. I told them all that I would place them in Santa's Big Gift Box so that he could take them back to the North Pole.

While children were in the room, I never saw Rick break from the character of Santa. He really was Santa, a real snowy white beard, wire rimmed glasses, sparkle in his eye, a voice that enchanted even the adults. During one of the slow moments, I stood back and pondered the thought of an average wife and mother, becoming an Elf for a day. How often does this really happen? How lucky was I, that I could give a gift such as this to all of these children? Children from all types of families. Rich, poor, those from religious homes and those that knew nothing of the traditional meaning of Christmas. I gave the same attention to all of the children because they each deserved my best.

Generally, when toddlers come to see Santa, they are excited and when asked what they would like for Christmas, they respond with a list of their favorite toys. A small boy, about 3 years old, approached with a middle aged woman. We did what we normally do; Santa greeted him, I helped to position him on Santa's lap and then the question of what he wanted was asked. We were not prepared for his response. With a quiet voice he stated that he wanted his adoption to be finished so that he could have a mom and dad. Silence. Rick and I shot a glance at one another, realizing the enormity of what had just been said. Holding back the tears until the little boy and his guardian left the room, we then held up the line of children so that we could break down. With that one little boy, the entire meaning behind what we were there to do, came into focus. I wept. I couldn't stop. Rick and I just sat and cried. What are we supposed to do with a wish like that? If Elf Magic did exist, I was heaping it onto this little child, engaging the powers of Santa, all of the Elves and each of the Reindeer to make this Christmas wish come true. How insignificant are all of our problems and complaints in comparison to what this 3 year old wished for Christmas? We were in awe. I cannot recall a time in my entire life where I felt so small and powerless. Being a mother as well as an Elf, I just wanted to hug, nurture, and care for this little boy. How in the world could I get through the rest of the day?

Somehow, we managed to pull ourselves together and continue on. We talked with big kids, who of course, thought that they were much too old to visit Santa, much less sit on his lap! At the slightest doubt of Santa's existence, out came the Magic Elf Dust...sprinkling the wonderful sparkles onto older children always resulted in giggles and a look of embarrassment. I could tell that there was now a question in their minds...just maybe, there really was a Santa? An older girl, that I remembered from the year before came in with her mother. I guessed her age to be 13 or 14 but she was obviously mentally delayed and was more like a child of 6 or 7. She remembered me also. Since there were no other children in line, Santa and I spent a little more time with her. She wanted a baby doll and stuffed dog for Christmas. She liked my striped socks and my hat with jingle bells. She knew this was the real Santa because of his beard. As she got up to leave, I asked her if she wanted to know what extra special thing I brought with me. I stood next to her and we looked eye to eye. She was entranced and ready to see what I had. As I pulled the Magic Elf Dust out of my pocket, her eyes lit up, her smile broadened and she began to giggle. I sprinkled the sparkly dust all over her and as her mother stood by, I again, felt the magic of the moment. Not surprisingly, tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. Keep it together for a few more minutes, I told myself. As she closely inspected the fallen glitter that was now covering her hands, her mother pulled me aside and told me how much I had meant to her daughter over the last year. She talked about 'The Elf' for an entire year. And here I was again, to confirm in her mind, the reality of Elf Magic. This 'job' of being the Elf was so much more than just a volunteer position for the day. This was an honor, a privilege, something that I could do to 'pay it forward'. Those that know me, know that I am a huge supporter of volunteering. It seems that each time I give of myself, be it time, talent, work of some kind...I am always left with the feeling that I was given far more that what I offered to start with. I believe that true magic happened in that little room that day. I saw it, I felt it and I have no doubts that Elf Magic was present through each moment.

For the Love of Con

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened.”

                                                             ~Anatole France

Something amazing happens to us as humans when we open our hearts to an animal. It could be a cat, or a dog. A bird, fish or reptile. For many it is a horse or other farm animal. The type of pet that you love and care for is not as important as the process of falling in utter and complete love with your pet. Animals that capture our souls are unique and unbelievably special. This week, one of my best friends had to say good bye to her special boy. He crossed over the Rainbow Bridge after a battle with congestive heart failure. Con was the most majestic Irish Wolfhound. He was born on St. Patrick's Day. Kate first met Con when he was five months old. His owners brought a group of their Irish Wolfhounds to our local Highland Games as a sort of exhibit. The group of puppies were being walked across the grassy field when Kate's grandson, Tristan, at only 18 months old, stopped and watched the procession. It must have been a sight for a toddler to witness...even at 5 months old, Irish Wolfhounds are large dogs. Con stopped when his eyes gazed upon Tristan. They connected in that moment. Almost as if they knew they needed one another. Something magical happened as the two stared at one another. A bonding between a little boy and a dog. Kate, being unbelievably perceptive, sensed this and decided almost instantly that she wanted Con. He had a gentleness about him that made his size seem less intimidating. He really was gigantic.Being so large did not keep him from loving and nuzzling Kate's little grandson. They were buddies, Con and Tristan. I'm sure if Con had lived longer, he and Tristan would have had many adventures.Con loved to sit on the couch, rump up on the seat and front legs on the floor. It was probably a pretty comfortable place to sit for a 140 lb dog. Whenever Kate would stand still, Con would lean up against her. I'm sure there were times that she had to brace herself to keep from falling over. We all knew how special this dog was. His calm and loving demeanor were unmistakable. Kisses from Con were something I always looked forward to. Big, slurpy, wet doggie kisses.
Con was only three. Much too young. It feels like we didn't get enough time with him. But sometimes, rather than question why, or exclaim that life isn't fair, it's easier to appreciate the time you had and know that you gave your treasured pet the best possible life. We all knew that Con was sick. We could see him slowly declining over the summer. Kate's son in law dug a grave over a month ago. You can prepare. You can know, in your mind that the end is near but when it finally happens, you find that no amount of preparation can soften the blow to your soul. Kate loved this dog. She bonded with him before she brought him home. Anyone that met Con was immediately captivated by his presence. If it's possible for a dog to have charm, then Con was given a double dose. Have you ever seen a dog smile? Isn't that the most incredible thing? Con seemed to always be smiling.
When I found out that Con had passed, I knew that Kate was saddened beyond belief. It seems that one of the ways that I comfort my loved ones is through food. Food is comforting. And in my mind, food equals love. Especially when you prepare it with good intentions and sweet thoughts. I set out to make a double recipe of a batch of Oatmeal Raisin Cinnamon Cookies. I've taken cookies to her office before so it wouldn't necessarily be unusual for cookies to magically show up again. Having to work the day after your beloved dog passes away has to be difficult. And cookies and a big comforting hug would at least make it more bearable for her. I've always believed that the little things, the gestures of love, kindness and encouragement were more important than an entire book of lofty intentions.

Oatmeal Raisin Cinnamon Cookies (also known as Hugs in Cookie Form)

2/3 cup granulated sugar
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup real butter
1/2 cup shortening
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 large eggs
3 cups old fashioned oats
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup raisins

1. Heat oven to 375 degrees
2. Beat all ingredients except oats,flour and raisins in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed. Stir in oats, flour and raisins.
3. Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto ungreased cookie sheet. ( I always use parchment paper)
4. Bake 9-11 minutes or until light brown. ( 10 minutes seemed to be the perfect amount of time, at least for my oven)
5. Immediately remove from cookie sheet to wire rack.

I made a double recipe. While there are 10 people working in Kate's office, one batch should have been enough. But, as with everything I do, I go all out. I generally seem to cook and bake as if I'm feeding a group of 20. I guess I'd rather have more than enough than to have someone go hungry. I'm wondering if there are any cookies left. I noticed that Kate ate three of them, just while we were visiting. Ooops. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone.
While baking cookies seems to be a simple thing to do to help someone through their grief, I think the gesture behind it is what really counts. Close friends just seem to understand that. I didn't know how else to comfort her and reassure her that I care. Cooking is just what I do. It's part of who I am. I cook when I'm happy. I cook when I'm sad. I cook for other people, to show them how much they mean to me. I cook to celebrate, to entertain and to love. And on a side note, since I did make a double batch, I knew I'd have enough to take a small bag to another friend that I simply adore. She is my official taste-tester. I simply love taking her little portions of cookies or cake. And sometimes, I end up dropping by with a plate of happiness, just when she needs a little pick me up.I don't believe that there are any coincidences in life. You meet the people that are meant to be in your life, for one reason or another. And Kate is like a sister to me. My official taste tester, Tami, is such a sweetheart. I truly love my friends, through all of their ups and downs. True friends just have a knack of knowing when you need a hug. It just so happens that sometimes those hugs come in the form of Oatmeal Cookies.
Peace and Love,
Marna
Rest in Peace Sweet Con...you were loved and treasured.