Happy Birthday!!!

Mom has never really learned how to use call waiting. If you are talking to her and she gets a beep, she hangs up. It doesn’t matter what you are talking about, she has to go RIGHT THEN. Unless, you are her sister. Then she won’t hang up and it will beep and beep and you think she isn’t answering or something tragic has happened. Has she tripped over the dog and broken a hip? Did she  pass out? My imagination goes far beyond what I can even write on here. If I can’t reach her and I know she is home, I worry.

An example of this happened yesterday. Mom has been sick and I called to check on her, knowing that she would be home alone. No answer. I tried again. No answer. I called her cell. Maybe she is talking to Peggy and won’t answer. I try later. No answer. I thought that maybe she was in a deep nap, as she is prone to do, and called a few hours later. Again no answer.

At this point I am in a slight panic and picture horrible things involving an ambulance and xanax. I call my Dad, who is only slightly more advanced and says that he will try to call her with his phone. As if I wasn’t doing it right and his would work but guess what? Still no answer.

He sends my brother rushing to check on her (thankfully he was just getting off work) and finds her with both phones “going crazy”. The landline would not ring and the cell phone would “only dial the number 3 and it kept talking to me. It kept telling me to say a command. I said BE QUIET but it never did.”

Today I called her on her landline and she answered. Only thirty seconds or so into the conversation I had a beep and it was Mom calling me from her cell. I told her that I was getting a call from her cell and she uttered a few words under her breath and then we resumed our conversation.

Mom is pretty bright and talented in many areas,  but the phone wins every time.

My husband was kind enough to volunteer a fish fry!

He did all the hard work.

Joy worked hard on a relish tray. It made a lovely centerpiece!

Everyone else brought side dishes and it was really the perfect meal! We had a great time visiting and sharing gifts with Dad.

My niece, Whittney, won the prize of the year when she gave Dad a framed picture of them together when she was about 2 and riding on the tractor with him. It made the rest of ours seem so commercial!

Then, we had desserts. More on that tomorrow, but a hint for now….

Mama Snooks

Her name was Emma Mae but we called her Mama Snooks. Nobody really knows why. She was a soft and gentle lady who made her own clothes and scoffed at the store bought “off the rack” items. Nothing fit her small frame like something she could make herself.

I remember once when we were little she babysat us and my brothers, who were about 3 and 5 or so, asked to practice their calf roping skills on her. She said yes and was soon tied to a chair, unable to move!

I was asked to bring something sentimental to a workshop next week. The first thing I thought of was the baby doll quilt she made for me from her dress scraps. I can still picture her wearing those dresses. Or, my wedding ring. After she passed I was given her engagement ring. It is white gold with a flawless ruby and hand carving design on the setting. Like she was, it is unique and beautiful.

Happy Birthday Mama Snooks.

Boo, meet cupcake.

Our first stop was for a diet vanilla coke and a cherry sprite.

Joy loves all beauty shops, but Peggy's is high on her list.

Rah Rah Ree!

I'm not touching it!

Somehow we ended up far away from the mall.

Our mission: Herding donkeys.

Dad and Mason, both unsure of what they were doing.

More family to celebrate Joy's birthday and herd donkeys.

The keeper of the cupcake neglected his duties, playing instead

Sadly, it was the end of cupcake.  It wasn’t the end of our fun though. We continued to celebrate Joy’s birthday with our cupcakes and a quick trip to the mall. It could have only been better if Joy had been here herself.

When my mother-in-law, Ninny, makes a cake, it is always from scratch.  She’s from the generation where homemade cake doesn’t mean homemade from a mix, it means she actually makes the entire thing herself from start to finish.   This year she was making her youngest grandson an Italian Cream Cake.  I couldn’t let it pass without pictures.

Here are the ingredients for Ninny’s Prize Winning Italian Cream Cake

• 2 C. sugar
• 1/2 C. shortening
• 1 stick margarine or butter
• 1 C. buttermilk
• 2 C. flour
• 1 C. chopped pecans
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. salt
• 5 eggs (separate yellows and whites)
• 2 C. coconut

Cream together sugar, shortening, and margarine.

Add beaten egg yolks and vanilla.

Add buttermilk with dry ingredients. (flour, soda, salt) Do half at a time.

Fold in beaten egg whites and add coconuts and pecans.

Bake @ 325° for 30 to 35 minutes. She used a 9×13 pan but these are really moist and amazing when you use round pans and layer them.

Baking.

Now for the best part…the frosting. (or filling, as Ninny calls it)

• 8 oz cream cheese
• 1 stick margarine
• 1 lb box of powdered sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla

Mix these together and beat until smooth. Spread over cooled cake. *Optional* Sprinkle chopped pecans, coconuts, or both on cake.

Ninny, looking at her masterpiece.

20 years young

And Many More.

When we think of the women who marry into our family, a few are stand outs above the rest. For instance, my uncle married a woman when they had both retired and she stands out as being one of the worst cooks/aunts/busybodies I can recall. None of us can forget an instance when a family member passed away and Auntie M was there the whole time as soon as food started arriving. She was crazy about chicken wings and hoarded them all to herself. One evening she scavenged a few away and returned the next day with a pan of her chicken and spaghetti. She had taken some spaghetti, arranged the wings (with bones) on top of six slices of cheese. Someone raked it in the trash when she wasn’t looking. Yes, she was a stand out.

In complete contrast stands my brother’s wife, Melinda. She not only is a great cook, she is cooks huge dinners for our family on most special occasions. Christmas is really the time of year that she shines. Today while I was at their lovely home I admired her festive Christmas decor. Of course, this year she has another reason to celebrate.

Her first grandchild!

Every part of the house is decorated for Christmas. She has a tree in almost every room. I had to take pictures before she started on making the chicken and spaghetti.

Did I mention they live on a farm? They hunt, fish, raise cattle, and kids. (It was in the pasture behind this house that Joy started a fire while cooking. Just FYI)

The pictures don’t do justice to show the antlers on the mantle. Nor do they to the rest of the house. Can you see why we have Christmas here?

Time to get back to the kitchen. Melinda has been no stranger to the kitchen, cooking for her husband and three kids and often, large groups will hire her to cater because she can do such a great job. My brother will make jokes about her cooking at times, saying that her pickles glow in the dark, but nobody could cook for him like she does.  (nobody wants to!)

Here is a good chicken and spaghetti recipe.

• 4-6 chicken breasts, boiled and deboned (save broth)
• 1 family size cream of chicken soup
• 1 family size cream of mushroom soup
• 1 1/2 Velveeta cheese
• 2 cans of rotel
• med onion (chopped)
• bell pepper (chopped)
• garlic powder
• Mexana Chili Powder
• 2 lbs spaghette

Add 3 cups of water to broth. Bring to a boil and add onions and peppers, then pasta. Cook until tender. Do not drain. Add soups, chili powder, garlic powder, and rotel. Add the cheese last and then turn to low, stirring often. If not careful, this will scorch. Cook til the cheese is melted.

I had to leave before the finished product was completed. Anything that is more than bony wings with sliced cheese is a keeper around here.

Merry Christmas!

I just knew that the box was one of my many Cyber Monday deals and rushed in my bedroom to open it. One glance at the Simon and Schuster box told me that this was not a gift, at least not one I had ordered with a credit card.

My story about my grandmother and grandfather that was published came in the mail today. I expected it in several weeks, not even close to now.

My grandmother, while not your typical grandmother, was one of the best cooks I’ve ever known.  There was always something to eat at their house, and people came by on a regular basis for coffee and whatever was leftover from a previous meal. Many people came by at lunchtime, and there was always plenty to eat. Of course, everything was fried.   Deep fried. I don’t know how she did it because she never had an ounce of fat on her. My grandmother was a believer in Crisco and yet  my grandfather’s cholesterol was always low. None of the rest of us inherited these amazing genetic traits, but I digress.  Really the fact that she was tiny and he had better cholesterol than a teenager is unreal considering she made chicken fried steaks at least 4 times per week, along with homemade mashed potatoes dripping in butter, and gravy.

Cooking was truly her gift. She not only was excellent at it, it was what bonded her to her family and friends.  She never drove a car and her skills at cooking  brought people to her.  This was the last picture taken of her. She was wearing no make-up, and we laughed about her prison uniform sweater. She didn’t want a picture that day, but I am so thankful that I did go ahead and snap it. I have another of her sitting in my grandfather’s lap, both of them laughing.

My grandmother was faithful to do massive baking at Christmas. My story that was published by Chicken Soup for The Soul was about her Christmas baking, and how much we missed it the first Christmas without her. It has been 16 Christmas seasons without her fruitcakes, fresh apple cakes, or orange slice cakes and we still talk about them.

Really, this is the point of our website. The stories behind the recipe. Or better yet, the person behind the story.

We have many funny memories of our little grandmother, and often laugh about her or something she did or said. Most of all, we treasure the fact that she did what she did best to take care of her family.

Fresh Apple Cake

• 2c sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 2 c flour
• 1 tsp soda
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 c pecans
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 3 c fresh apples, chopped
• 1 small jar maraschino cherries
• 3/4 c Crisco, melted

Bake in a greased and floured pan at 300° for one hour.

Rarely was she a woman of few words, but it looks she was with recipes. Today, I’m thankful I got a present that was better than anything I can buy online. My story about my grandparents (and their wackiness) was published.  I’m sure if she could read it now, she would be mad at some portion of it. It’s just how she did things.

This is him at his recent birthday party.  If you remember from a previous post, he appears to have no taste buds as evidenced by his ability to just eat whatever is available for sustenance.  He grew up in a time and place where you are what you had when you had it, and this carries on to this day.  She specifically told us not to mention the time he accidentally ate cat food (too late), or the time somebody set an individually wrapped Electrosol tab too close to the Halloween candy dish and he was halfway through the “nastiest candy” he ever tasted before Mama could tell him it was a dishwashing tablet.  Never in my life have I seen Daddy so much as make toast, but there is one food story about Daddy that is totally worth telling here.

In 2001, Mama had an accident where she fell down and fractured her elbow and shattered the bones in her forearm AND upper arm.  She was in a cast from her hand to her armpit and was pretty much incapacitated.   It was at this point that Dad had to take over the cooking in the home.  Cooking is a strong word, perhaps it was his job to forage for to food is a better term.   The nest was empty and it was all up to him.  He prepared the only meal he was totally capable of: Tuna fish mixed with mustard, and a banana on the side.  To Daddy a banana could be the appetizer or a desert, side dish, whatever.  It’s his favorite thing to eat and he thinks it’s delicious, so he assumed she would too.  He was sadly mistaken.

This meal was breakfast, lunch, and dinner for days and days on end.  Days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into her teetering on the edge of having a total breakdown because she needs a little more variety in her life than he does.  (On the plus side her cholesterol was non-existent during that time).  Mama tried everything she could to drop a hint to Daddy that she needed a little more spice in her life,  but he didn’t get the hint.  During this time he learned how to make coffee so he figured he was on his way to being the next Julia Child.  Well, after Mama had taken all she could of tuna and bananas, she called me in tears because she had SPECIFICALLY told him to pick her up some chicken.  He returned home with………………..tuna fish and bananas.  She called me crying like there was some sort of major tragedy taking place in the world.  I believe her words were, “ALL I ASKED FOR HIS SOME FRIED CHICKEN……….IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK????”  I literally had to get in the car, go to KFC and pick her up a bucket to console her.  Once I made it down there, she was much relieved to actually have some grease return to her diet, and after that any time she has gotten sick, I have made sure to see to it that she has a supply of chicken at the ready  (On a side note, she was totally devastated to see that her favorite KFC branch was closed recently.  Fairly certain it was condemned).   The moral of the story is that weeks on end of tuna fish with a banana for dessert is the recipe for a psychiatric emergency.

Lottie Faye remembers being a young woman during the depression, and she spoke very earnestly about how hard it was for everybody growing up during those times.  She grew up on a 60 acre cotton farm in Arkansas where she and her 5 siblings worked hard with their parents to provide for their family.   She describes in vivid detail how she milked cows, killed chickens, and ate almost every thing off of a wood burning stove, which she swears made everything taste better.   Lottie Faye said she first remembers her mother trying to teach her to cook around the age of 12, starting off with biscuits.  According to Lottie, “they were a FLOP.”  Never one to be deterred, she kept at, honing the skills that would one day feed her children and grandchildren.  She speaks fondly of her siblings, and remembers collecting something called “possum grapes,” with her brothers.  ( No idea what they are, as Mama says you may have to Google it).  She would take these possum grapes, and along with sugar and water, she would mash them up and then let them ferment in hidden jars in the barn.  Then she and her siblings would sneak out and have a little possum grape wine.   Apparently her parents never knew of this little detail, and you can see Lottie still has a devious little laugh about it, even after all these years.

Lottie Faye in her twenties.

Around the age of 18, Lottie’s father passed away, and her mother was left alone to finish raising the children.  It was a hardship on everyone, but Lottie made her contribution by working at the phone company.  Around the age of 23, she met a man named Milton on a blind date.  Lottie remembers that she wore a very brightly colored pants suit to the date, and Milton commented the he didn’t care for it at all.  Now normally this would seem like something that would run a girl off, but Lottie Faye herself has a very tell it like it is personality herself, and I think she must have appreciated it because a year later they were married. (To demonstrate how blunt Lottie can be, she once told me, “Joy, your hair is almost back to a natural color, I’m really happy for you.”)

Soon after getting married, Lottie Faye and Milton added two boys to their family, Rodney and Tony.  Over the years the boys grew up and had families of their own, and so Lottie Faye was christened Mamaw, which she would be called frequently for the rest of her days.    She raised her children and helped care for her grandchildren with the same no-nonsense style that she still speaks with even now.  I remember Shelia saying on more than one occasion that
Mamaw had to discipline her and sister Nicole after one of their rowdy childhood battles with each other (some of which were epic, to this I can attest.)  In the late 1990’s Lottie lost her beloved Milton, and in 2006, she endured the loss of her son Tony.   She still talks about both of them in the present tense at times, and it’s plain to see that though she has persevered, and seems to be enjoying her life in Central Arkansas these days, those men are never far from her heart and mind.

Lottie Faye today.

And now, without further ado, here is one of her best recipes.  It is the most requested from her family, and I feel very privileged to be able to share it with you all.

Chicken and Dumplings

• 1 whole chicken
• 2 eggs
• salt and pepper
• 1 can of cream of chicken soup
• 1 can of chunky chicken soup or a can of chicken spread
• 4 cups of all purpose flour

Boil the chicken until it is cooked through and tender.  Add salt and paper (to taste) to the water that the chicken is boiling in.  Take the chicken out to cool, and reserve 2 cups of the broth and set aside.  To the remaining water in the pot, add cream of chicken soup, the chunky soup or spread, and at this point you will want to add enough water so that it is the consistency of stock that you want to boil your dumplings in.   This may be a little thicker or thinner for everybody.  Let this simmer on a low heat while you make your dumplings.

For the dumplings, you will take the reserved broth (after it has cooled to at least room temperature) and add the two eggs and mix together until well blended.   Slowly add the broth mixture to the 4 cups of flour until it is “about right” for dumplings.  Roll the dough out flat  onto a floured surface (you will probably want to split the dough in half to make it easier to work with).   Mamaw likes her to be rolled thin and cut into small strips, but again you can make this somewhat to you own liking, but make sure you cook them accordingly.   Drop the dumplings in as you cut them, now turning up the heat so you can cook the dough (don’t overcook them or they will get too mushy she says).  Add your de-boned and de-skinned chicken to the pot, and again add salt and pepper at this stage if you feel it needs more.