This weekend, Jason asked me to make some sugar cookies, and so I began leafing through the Collingsworth County Cookbook, circa 1986. This cookbook was edited by my grandmother, and somehow I inherited her personal copy -- the one with all her notes. I noticed a few interesting things -- things that explain a lot about "where I come from..."
First off, apparently Bernice Needham is the only person in Wellington that was ever on a diet. Judging by her submitted recipes (90% of the diet section) she probably also had a lot of gas.
The book's first recipe is for "Horse Salve." This indicates salve
for horses, not
made of horses.
When Granny is putting recipes in the regular parts of the cookbook, she signs them "Roxie Mae Hill." When she puts things in the "Diet" section that will undoubtably taste like ass, (see "diet catsup" and "diet congealed salad") she signs them "Mrs. Bill Hill," like she's hoping no one will make that connection. (Or perhaps to subliminally incriminate my grandfather?)
Granny also liked to adjust recipes. And while I can see correcting the stray typo, her notes seem to go past that...In the instance of "corn chowder," changing every amount and ingredient to something more her liking. Including, I kid you not, removing "corn."
Poor Marie and Rose Shadid. In some bizarre civil rights violation, they were forced to mark all of their entries with the subheading "(Lebanese)", even though some of their submissions were as innocuous as "Green Beans and Beef". No one made Kathryn Barjenbruch label her "Porcupines" as "(Norweigian)" or "(Nasty)"
Did you know that my mother is supposedly responsible for something called "Zucchini Slippers"? It involves boiled zucchinis stuffed with cottage cheese and cheddar. I believe that under interrogation we could force her to admit that she's never made a zucchini slipper in her life, and that this is just a sick joke Granny was playing in her quest to dominate the cookbook's contents.
I know what the makers of "Dump Cake" were attempting to convey with their name, but it's unfortunate that it ends up being listed next to "Prune Cake".
Come to think of it, I'm seeing more and more recipes credited to relatives that are questionable...For instance, I don't recall mixing up too many batches of Apple Brownies when I was 6, but apparently they were my specialty. I'm really beginning to think that Granny was on a real power trip with the editing.
I think I'm going to have to try Ola Mae Forbis' "Jimmy Carter Pound Cake." It would appear to be bland and ineffectual, but very, very sweet.
Nancy would like you to know that she "prefers Dean Hill's recipe on page 85" for barbeque sauce. You know...in case you care.
Lucille Motsenbocker knows what she did. (That's all I'm going to say about it.)
And finally...Friday at lunch, Jason offered me a bite of his curry. I accepted, and the chicken and rice had barely touched my tongue when I began flushing, choking and sputtering. It was all I could do to wash the offending bite down. And he asked, and I asked myself, "Why can't I eat this? It's not bad, just different." And as I flipped through the book, I came across the reason, and the reason is this:
"Diet Catsup"
It's not the recipe itself that's the problem. The ingredients are very much what you would expect from catsup -- tomato juice, vinegar, onion, etc... It's in the paragraph that follows.
"Simmer until half of bulk. Store in glass jar in refrigerator. Use for barbeque chicken or make a pizza from 1 slice white bread, rolled as thin as possible. Toast on one side; turn and add 1 ounce American cheese or mozzaerella cheese; cover with catsup and oregano. Put under broiler until cheese bubbles. Serve hot. Catsup may also be used on baked salmon patties."
I realized as I read this recipe, (lovingly submitted by Mrs. Bill Hill) that my tastes are bred into me from generation before generation of white-bread-catsup-pizza loving people. My tastebuds, however disappointing, do not aspire to heights of worldly, flavorful cuisine. They enjoy slumming with the chicken fried velveeta. I am not nearly as offended by "diet congealed salad" as I should be. I fondly remember Government Cheese. Salmon comes from a can and is eaten in *patties*. And you know, I think I'm okay with it -- even if the most exotic I ever get is "(Lebonese)".
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