Now Is the Month of Maying

May is getting ready to show off its lawns strewn with daffodils and its doorways decked with lilac blossoms. Of course, we can’t be 100 percent sure we’re through with snow in western Massachusetts; a couple of years ago we saw the white stuff on Memorial Day weekend. Nevertheless, there’s a general consensus among the robins, gardeners, and ladybugs that spring has arrived at last.

The first holiday we celebrate is of course May Day, May 1. When I was in graduate school (where I had Marxist leanings) May Day was a serious time devoted to discussions of flaws in the capitalist system. Back home in Hawley it’s a more cheerful day on which older residents recall the delightful tradition of delivering May baskets to neighbors.

Hawleyites over 60 have told me that they used to hang May baskets on friends’ doorways not only on May Day but throughout the month of May. They sought out early flowers and baked special treats to deliver in their small, hand-decorated baskets. Each evening the May basket deliveries were a source of play, creativity, and fellowship.

To them, the May basket tradition evokes a time when schools were located in neighborhoods around town and when Hawley seemed to enjoy more community spirit in town as a result. They know they can’t go back to that educational system (as the current headlines attest, schools are becoming more rather than less consolidated). Nevertheless, they recall the tradition with fondness.

I like to deliver May baskets myself, at least on a minor scale. I’m hopeless at decorating the baskets, but I can pick flowers and make treats like a pro. My recipe for this special day is for tiny lime cookies that burst with spring flavor. It comes from King Arthur Flour. (So do some of its signature ingredients.)

Even if readers don’t have enough days left to order the ingredients for this May Day, I hope they’ll take a little time to gather a bouquet or make something tasty for a special neighbor. This tradition can still build community in the 21st century.

My neighbor Alice samples a lime cookie.

Little Lime Cookies

If you’d like to order the lime powder and oil required for this recipe, give KAF a call at 1-800- 827-6836. You can probably do without the lime powder (although your cookies will have less lime kick!), but the oil is strong and useful.

Ingredients:

for the cookies:

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) sweet butter at room temperature
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons lime powder (available from King Arthur Flour)
1/2 teaspoon lime oil (available from King Arthur Flour)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup flour

for the topping:

3/4 cup confectioner’s sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons lime powder

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, waxed paper, or a silicone mat.

First, make the cookies. In a bowl, combine the butter, confectioner’s sugar, lime powder, lime oil, and salt. They need not be beaten heavily; just mix them together with a spoon. Stir in the flour.

Form the cookies into 20 small balls using a cookie scoop or the palms of your hands. Shaping the rounds is a little tricky as the dough can be crumbly, but perseverance pays off!

Place the balls on the prepared cookie sheet and pop them into the oven. Bake the cookies for 17 to 18 minutes, until they are set and lightly brown around the edges. While they are in the oven mix together the sugar and lime powder for the topping.

After a minute or two remove the cookies from the sheets. King Arthur Flour provides two different methods for the topping. The method I used was to roll the cookies in the topping while still warm, then roll them again after they had cooled. You may also roll them only once about 10 minutes after they come out of the oven.

Serve when cool. Makes 20 cookies (more if you’re good at shaping them into really tiny balls!).

This little May Basket was made by the late Judith Russell.

Spring Break: Key Lime White Chocolate Chunk Cookies

You may have gathered that I LOVE key limes. I particularly adore these cookies, which are better than any commercial variety. I had to get the key-lime extract from a mail-order company, Silver Cloud Estates (1-410-484-4526), since the closest retail store was in Troy, New York. Fortunately, a small bottle of the stuff will last for quite a while! And the cookies are definitely worth the effort.

Ingredients:

1 cup (2 sticks) sweet butter at room temperature
3/4 cup white sugar
3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 eggs at room temperature
1 tablespoon key-lime extract
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2-1/4 cups flour
2 cups (12 ounces) white chocolate chunks (purchased or cut off a bar of white chocolate; use chips instead of chunks if you must)

Instructions:

Beat the butter and sugars together until they are smooth and creamy. Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time, followed by the extract, baking soda, and salt. Stir in the flour. Gently mix in the chocolate chunks.

Chill the dough, well covered and sealed, for at least 12 hours and preferably for 24 or 36. I got this trick from an article published last July in The New York Times in which experts weighed in on the perfect chocolate-chip cookie. The article argued that the best CCCs chill for an extended period of time so that the eggs can sink into the flour. The chilling really does improve texture and (somehow!) flavor.

About 15 minutes before you are ready to bake your cookies, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Drop the cookies in teaspoon-sized rounds onto parchment- or silicone-covered baking sheets. Bake them for 10 to 12 minutes, until they are a golden brown. Let them cool briefly on the sheets; then remove them to a rack to cool.

Makes about 60 cookies.

Hawley's Answer to Dorothy Lamour (I admit it! I Photoshopped my waist just a little!)

Spring Break: Sunset in a Pie Pan

Dagny Johnson with her friend Vince Travaglini (labeled Christmas 1950, courtesy of Eric Johnson)

Key lime pie is refreshingly delicious and may just be the easiest pie in the world to make. I love it not just because of its flavor and ease, however, but because it reminds me of a magical figure in my life.

Anna Dagny Johnson and my mother were college friends. Originally from the Midwest, Dody (as we called her) contracted polio on their junior year abroad in France. Eventually the Chicago winters proved too icy for a woman on crutches, and she and her family commissioned a Japanese architect to design a perfect little one-story house on Key Largo in Florida. Hidden away from the road, encircled by native foliage, the house looked out on the Gulf of Mexico.

Although she worked for several years as a labor lawyer (a career that brought her a lifelong hatred of J. Edgar Hoover), for most of her life Dagny lived off family money and followed her heart.

She adored Paris–its rhythm, its people, its look. For decades she spent Florida’s hot summers in the City of Light, shipping her specially fitted red Ford convertible across the Atlantic Ocean so that she could be mobile in France. I remember her driving me along the boulevards when I was seven. She put the car’s top down and made me repeat the mantra “Paris is the most beautiful city in the world” until it was imprinted in my psyche.

Dagny was always a lover of film. At Mount Holyoke in the 1930s she and future Connecticut governor Ella Grasso showed documentaries about the Spanish Civil War on campus. In the 1960s she hit upon the idea of programming a festival of films shot in or about Paris. “Paris en Films” (Paris on Film) ran for several summer seasons. My brother David, Dody’s nephew Eric, and I each worked for the festival for at least one summer.

I’ll never forget my first time there. Dody had rented an ornate apartment from a Spanish nobleman. She, Eric, and I shared the apartment at night. During the day a huge cast of characters joined us. These included Madame Garcia, a Spaniard who cooked tuna omelets(!) whenever Dody wanted to entertain someone important; Agnes, who wrote letters and answered the phone; Antoine, the aristocrat who was the figurehead president of Paris en Films (Dody did most of the work); and Monsieur Lamoureux, Dody’s hairdresser, who always arrived by walking directly into her bedroom via French doors.

We also encountered figures from the film world. Alberto Cavalcanti was one of the few film directors who enjoyed strong careers in three different countries. He took part in the experimental French film movement in the 1920s, made pictures for Britain’s Ealing Studios during World War II, and returned to his native Brazil after the war to make lavish color films. By the time we met him in Paris Alberto was very old and much too fond of a drink, but he still had wonderful stories to tell and an occasional twinkle in his eye. He adored Dody. He left her his papers, which Eric donated to the British Film Institute after her death.

The festival’s films were shown outdoors that summer in the garden of the Hôtel de Sully, a historic home in Paris. Eric showed typical American organizational talent and helped transport and project the films. I was never quite sure what my role was—a little ticket taking, a little translation (since my French was pretty good at the time), a little shopping.

The festival, like Dagny herself, was always in lukewarm water financially; there were certain restaurants and hotels to which we could never return because it—or she—owed them money. Nevertheless, we somehow managed to show interesting films every night, from the experimental work of Chris Marker and Stan Brakhage to early footage by the Lumière brothers and Thomas Edison’s operatives, from “The Red Balloon” to a silent Hollywood film starring Adolph Menjou. Dody was named a chevalier de la Légion d’honneur by the French government. She was one of few Americans to receive this honor.

Eric and I were too busy running around Paris to notice what a great time we were having. Whenever we meet or write today, we exchange Humphrey Bogart’s signature line, “We’ll always have Paris.” We laugh as we say it, but it’s also true. Somehow without my realizing it our time there became one of the highlights of my youth.

From left to right: Agnes, Dagny, Tinky, and Eric in Paris

After Paris, Dagny’s other great love was the preservation of the Florida Keys. She used all her strength of character (and much of her remaining strength of body) to combat rampant development and preserve the native flora and fauna of her beloved home. She is appropriately the first figure profiled in Susan Nugent’s book Women Conserving the Florida Keys.

None of what I’ve written so far conveys the exhilarating (and sometimes maddening) experience of being with Dagny. She had passion for–and a strong opinion about–everyone and everything she encountered. Her pronouncements were never simple statements; each sentence was filled with capital letters and ended with an exclamation mark. Each vista she looked at, each mouthful she ate, was THE MOST WONDERFUL EVER!!!—something to be savored and shared with friends.

One of her great joys was the view she saw daily from her little house on Key Largo. Each afternoon she turned her sights and those of her guests to the coming sunset. She argued it was best enjoyed sipping a cocktail or nibbling on a refreshing piece of key-lime pie. We were told to linger over the sunsets; no one could stop watching until the first star came out.

Like Dody herself those sunsets over the bay were colorful and dramatic. Like her they imposed their rhythm on those who came near them: they forced us to slow down and adapt to their pace. And they were always worth the trouble it took to drop whatever we were doing and yield to their appeal.

Dagny Johnson died in 2003. She has a couple of memorials. A hammock park on Key Largo is dedicated to the memory of her efforts to save the fragile Floridian ecosystem. Appropriately, it is located at the site of one of her greatest victories in that struggle. The large arch that marks its entry was supposed to be the gateway to Port Bougainville, an oversized development she helped to avert.

Dody also has a cinematic legacy, the 1939 film Love Affair. After she contracted polio in France she and her wonderful, funny mother sailed back to the United States. On the boat they met director Leo McCarey and his wife. McCarey was so inspired by the charming, gallant crippled girl he had met on board that he created a plot that (very loosely) combined shipboard romance and loss of mobility.

The film was remade as An Affair to Remember in 1957. The films’ plots (which are identical) are creaky, but they are among the most romantic movies ever made. I think of Dody whenever I watch either version (or even the weird 1994 re-remake).

I also think of her when I make or eat any of her culinary passions—a fresh orange or avocado, a dish of crème brulé, a croque monsieur, or a cool slice of key lime pie. As the pie slides down my throat I sit once again by the Gulf of Mexico. I hear Dody rattle on about Paris and religion and the Florida Keys. And the lush yet delicate Key Largo sunset washes over me.

Key Largo Key Lime Pie

As in the key-lime chicken recipe below, do not substitute Persian lime juice for key lime juice here. And don’t worry that your key lime pie isn’t green (or add food coloring to make it so). Key limes are yellow, and your pie will be naturally tinted a very pale shade of that color.

According to the web site of Nellie & Joe’s, the company that makes the key-lime juice and recipe I use, classic key-lime pies are not baked (a plus in the Florida heat!). The lime juice is alleged to cook the egg yolks. Here in the north, however, I usually bake my pie. Some folks like to use the leftover egg whites to make a meringue topping for their pie and eschew the whipped cream. I much prefer whipped cream for texture and flavor.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup key-lime juice
1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
3 egg yolks (use the whites in another recipe; you won’t need them here)
1 8-inch pie shell with a graham-cracker crust (preferably homemade)
whipped cream as needed

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl whisk together the juice, condensed milk, and egg yolks until they are smooth. Pour this mixture into your pie shell, and place the pie in the oven. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes.

The pie won’t necessarily set, but you don’t need it to!

After removing the pie from the oven let it cool to room temperature; then cover it and place it in the freezer until a few minutes before you are ready to eat. Remove the pie from the freezer, adorn it with whipped cream (either all the way across the top or just around the edges, depending on how much additional fat you want to absorb!), and serve. If you have leftover pie, store it, covered, in the refrigerator.

Serves 6 to 8.

Spring Break: Key Lime Chicken (Plus!)

The main course for my family’s tropical evening was actually something for which I’m not including a recipe because there really isn’t one. We ordered stone crab from the Islamorada Fish Company on the Florida Keys. This is a very expensive treat because the stone crab has to be shipped overnight (I haven’t yet had the heart to look at my credit-card bill) and does nothing to reduce one’s carbon footprint.

It does make life festive, however. The Fish Company catches one claw from many different crabs (returning the crabs themselves to the ocean to grow more claws!) and cooks them. When the claws arrive, the home cook’s responsibility is to refrigerate them until eating time, bang on the claws with the provided mallet to loosen the shells, and melt a lot of butter for dipping.

Michael and David bang on crab claws on the newspaper-covered floor.

Despite my love of stone crab I wanted to have a recipe for publication so the next evening I prepared a Cuban-inspired key-lime chicken. It’s not quite as devastatingly wonderful as the stone crab, but it’s a lot less expensive.

The key-lime juice gives the chicken a summery kick. And it’s hard to find an easier recipe. I adapted it from the web site of Island Grove, a company that makes a variety of key-lime products.

Of course, you may not have key lime juice in your pantry. I have found Nellie & Joe’s in a number of grocery stores. You have to buy a 2-cup bottle, but it’s useful for lots of things in addition to this chicken, including the key-lime pie recipe I’ll post shortly. A few drops make a lovely addition to a gin and tonic as well.

Don’t try to substitute regular lime juice. Key limes have a subtler, warmer flavor.

Ingredients:

extra-virgin olive oil as needed
4 boneless skinless chicken breasts
salt and pepper to taste
1 onion, cut into rings
3 cloves garlic, finely minced
1/4 cup key-lime juice

Instructions:

In a large skillet with a cover heat the olive oil. Use it to brown the chicken breasts on both sides, salting and peppering as you cook them. Set aside. Sauté the onion and garlic until they begin to brown; then put them aside with the chicken.

Pour the key-lime juice and 1/4 cup water into the pan, and use them to scrape up (gently!) any goopy bits that are sticking to the bottom of the pan. Return the chicken and vegetables to the pan, cover it, and reduce the heat to a simmer. Simmer the mixture for 20 minutes; then uncover and simmer until the liquid has almost evaporated—about 10 minutes more. Serve over rice.

Serves 4.

Green Kitchen Tools for Earth Day

Lamson & Goodnow's New Green Kitchen Tools (Image Courtesy of Lamson & Goodnow; garish colors added by me)

I buy all my knives at Lamson & Goodnow—in part because the company is my neighbor in Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts, but mostly because it makes excellent knives. L&G has a handy lifetime sharpening policy to boot.

In recent years the company has branched out into lovely wooden products and a line of silicone kitchen items (I have my eye on its silicone egg poachers for a Mother’s Day recipe!). It also makes high-quality kitchen tools—spatulas, turners, grilling implements, and my favorite potato masher in the world.

In honor of Earth Day I thought I’d mention L&G’s most recent tools, a line called “Good Now” that is made as much as possible from recycled materials. The company makes turners of various sizes and a mini masher. I hear that other tools are in the works.

The tools’ handles are made entirely from post-consumer recycled paper(!). The blades are 90 percent post-consumer hi-carbon stainless steel. They look and work just like traditional hard-plastic-handled tools; they’re durable, and they are safe in the dishwasher and at high temperatures.

The electricity that makes them is generated locally at Lamson’s dam over the Deerfield River. And of course any waste (scrap metal and grinding shavings) is recycled.

Lamson & Goodnow has been a fixture in my area since 1834. It’s nice to see it continuing to stretch its creative wings in the 21st century.

By the way, L&G has been kind enough to offer to send a Good Now tool to one of the people who subscribe to this blog via e-mail between now and May 3! (This includes current subscribers!) The winner will be randomly chosen on Sunday, May 3. My immediate relatives are not eligible to win–although I certainly hope they will continue their subscriptions anyway. (In fact, I plan to force them to do so.)

To subscribe, just click on the link below. Thank you, Lamson & Goodnow! And good luck to all readers……

Subscribe to In Our Grandmothers’ Kitchens by Email.

Spring Break: Tropical Fruit Salsa

My family members needed something to nibble on with our tropical cocktails! I love the combination of flavors in this salsa, which looks gorgeous to boot. I have made it with only pineapple when I couldn’t find a mango, but the mango adds color as well as taste.

Ingredients:

2 cups fresh, chopped pineapple
1 fresh mango, chopped into small pieces (you may also use 3 cups of pineapple and omit the mango)
1 handful cilantro, chopped as finely as you like (I tend to do it roughly)
1/4 cup finely chopped red onion
1 Serrano pepper (or the pepper of your choice), seeded and finely chopped
the juice of 1 lime (or 2 tablespoons key lime juice)
1-1/2 teaspoons kosher or sea salt

Instructions:

Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Chill for at least 1/2 hour before serving to let the flavors blend. Serve with tortilla chips. (Homemade chips are best, but store bought are easiest!)

Makes about 3 cups of salsa.

Spring Break: Caipirinhas

“Aren’t we going to Florida this year?” asked my 90-year-old mother recently in what I can only describe as a tone of recrimination.

We had just heard from yet another family member who was either planning or returning from a vacation in a warm spot. We don’t actually go somewhere warm every year. We aim for a spring break every other year—and we were in Key Largo last year. I guess the extended mud season in western Massachusetts was simply getting to the normally stalwart Jan Weisblat.

Unfortunately, our spring was already pretty heavily scheduled. Instead of taking my mother to the tropics, therefore, our family decided to bring the tropics to her. For one fabulous evening we wore leis and dined on foods that are not native to the northeast.

OF COURSE, we started with a cocktail! I am so old fashioned that I thought the tropical drink of choice was a piña colada or a mango margarita. My more sophisticated brother David and his wife Leigh informed me that the chic crowd now sips a caipirinha. This Brazilian limeade packs a major punch, thanks to a sugarcane-based liquor known as cachaça. My brother actually found cachaça in a liquor store. You may substitute white rum or vodka if you like, however. Non-drinkers like my nephew Michael and me may simply use seltzer.

Feel free to vary the formula below depending on how sweet and/or strong you like your cocktails. My sister-in-law Leigh likes her caipirinha with three teaspoons of sugar instead of two. My mother likes it with three or FOUR teaspoons of sugar (make sure it dissolves if you try this), only a few drops of cachaça, and a lot of seltzer.

Ingredients:

1 lime
2 teaspoons sugar
enough crushed ice to fill a cocktail glass
cachaça as needed (probably about 2 ounces for a non-seltzer-using drinker)

Instructions:

Roll your lime along a table- or countertop several times to release the juices. Wash the lime. Cut it in half (saving the second half for another drink!), and cut away and discard the white center strip.

Cut the lime into pieces, and place the pieces (pulp side up) either in a glass or in a mortar bowl. Place the sugar on top. Use a pestle or clean wooden stick to crush the lime and sugar together for a short time.

If you have used a mortar bowl, put the sugar/lime mixture in a glass (otherwise just leave it in the glass!). Fill the glass with crushed ice, pour in cachaça to the top of the glass, and stir well. Pop in a straw or a festive umbrella, or just decorate the glass with a bit of lime.

Makes 1 potent caipirinha.

One of the advantages of having your tropical spring break at home is that your pets can come along. Tuffle was happy to participate in ours........

More Than Just Mashed Potatoes

Jeff proudly shows off his potatoes.

My mother and I recently had dinner at the home of our minister, Cara Hochhalter, and her husband Jeff. They live in a little red house in the middle of Charlemont, Massachusetts. The building is cleverly hidden away from the busy road by bushes and a fence; inside you’d never know you were close to traffic! Best of all, its main view is a private vista looking toward a brook at the back of the house.

Cara and Jeff arrived in town last summer. They spent their first few months in a nearby cottage while Jeff engaged in a flurry of construction on the new house. He replaced the heating system, insulated the walls, worked on the roof, paneled and painted the indoors, and generally made a wreck of a house into a cozy home.

He can cook, too! He invented this simple, tasty dish and dared me to discern the secret ingredient. I knew I liked it, but the cinnamon was too subtle for me to identify.



Ingredients:

2 large Idaho potatoes
2 sweet potatoes of similar size
salt to taste
a splash of olive oil
1 stick cinnamon
2 to 4 tablespoons (1/4 to 1/2 stick) sweet butter (or butter to taste) at room temperature

Instructions:

Wash the potatoes and cut them into pieces. (Jeff leaves the skins on but trims them if necessary.)

Place the potato pieces in a medium pot of water; add the salt, olive oil, and cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook until the potatoes are tender.

Drain and mash or whip with a beater, adding the butter as you mash. Serves 4 to 6.

By the way, for any of you who were wondering about the “up to 48 hours” my blog was supposed to be offline, it lasted about 90 seconds……

Oh where, oh where, has my little blog gone?

I don’t want to alarm you, dear readers—but soon this blog may disappear from the internet for a couple of days.

I will be switching it over to a slightly different blogging platform this week. Apparently, while it is in transition In Our Grandmothers’ Kitchens could cease to exist for up to 48 hours.

I promise I’ll come back—better than ever! Meanwhile, I’ll be thinking of you (and cooking for you)……….

Tinky

Peanut Butter Easter Eggs

My college roommate Kelly Boyd used to call Reese’s peanut butter confections “staples” of our pantry. Unfortunately for my waistline, she had a point.

I don’t know what made Mr. Reese decide in 1928 to put peanut butter together with chocolate, but I have always been glad he did. As a pairing it’s right up there with Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon, dogs and kids, and friends and cooking. The cups make great Easter eggs as well.
Here is a homemade (and truly delicious) version of this classic treat.

Happy Easter!

Ingredients:

3/4 cup peanut butter
1/3 cup graham cracker crumbs
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
about 1 pound chocolate—milk, semi-sweet, white, or a combination (you may swirl them together as we did in the photo)

Instructions:

In a bowl with an electric mixer combine the peanut butter, graham-cracker crumbs, and sugars. Beat until well blended. Carefully shape this dough into 16 or so small egg-shaped pieces (it will be sticky!). Place the pieces in wax paper and freeze them for at least 1 hour but no more than 2.

When you are ready to complete the process, put the chocolate in a double boiler over hot water. Melt it, stirring frequently. Remove it from the heat.

Dip the eggs in the chocolate, and place them on wax paper or a silicone mat to harden (this will take several hours—be patient!).

Makes about 16 irresistible eggs. Keep them from getting too warm, and try to eat them within 48 hours. My family had no trouble doing this!

Nana's Matzo Ball Soup

Food makes memory concrete in a way nothing else can–except perhaps music. When we make or taste a dish we forge a physical, sensory link to the person who inspired or gave us the recipe. We can almost reach out and touch the dead, nourished by their love.

Laura at the blog The Spiced Life understands this connection. She is hosting a blogging event in which she asks food bloggers to write about their grandmothers’ culinary accomplishments. I went to my paternal grandmother’s house every spring for Passover so I tend to think of her a lot at this time of year.

The Logo for Laura's Blogging Event

My father’s mother wasn’t what I’d call kitchen oriented. As a young woman she lived a busy life outside the home instead of cooking. We were told she had been a spy in her youth (or at least a smuggler—the tales were a little murky).

Sarah Hiller Weisblat came to this country from Poland in 1920 with her husband and three small children. Her brothers had already immigrated and set up a business in New York City; they gave my grandfather a job so that he could support the family.

My grandmother had many skills. She and her mother, who also immigrated (although she refused to learn English), ran their family and eventually their new neighborhood.

My grandmother radiated competence. I recently learned from my father’s cousin Herb that she delivered him. I don’t know whether a midwife or doctor was unavailable or whether this was something my Nana did on a semi-regular basis!

She was also diplomatic (perhaps a hangover from her days as a spy). When my Jewish father fell in love with my Christian mother, neither set of parents was thrilled. It wasn’t a time when a lot of intermarriage took place. Nevertheless, my grandmother welcomed my mother to the family and defended her against any criticism. She recognized a fellow smart, able woman when she saw one.

As I noted above, my grandmother didn’t do a lot in the kitchen, at least not by the time I met her. Perhaps her mother was the family cook. My father used to recall seeing a carp swimming in the bathtub in his childhood just before it was time to make gefilte fish. In my youth the gefilte fish came out of a jar.

(Although I’m a fan of fresh foods, I think in retrospect this was probably just as well; I would have yelled bloody murder at bath time if I’d seen a fish in the porcelain before me, no matter how thoroughly the tub had been scrubbed!)

I do remember two things that my grandmother made well and on a regular basis—pot roast and matzo ball soup. The matzo ball soup was particularly visible at Passover since the most prominent food on the Passover table is matzo, unleavened bread. When the Jews were finally allowed to leave Egypt in the Exodus story, they were in such a hurry that they baked their bread without letting it rise. In commemoration of this event their descendants eat no bread except matzo during Passover, which lasts for eight days. Matzo meal (ground matzo) is a staple of Passover cooking.

For the non-cognoscenti, matzo-ball soup is a bit like chicken-noodle soup. The balls resemble dumplings in chicken broth. The best matzo ball soup—the kind everyone’s grandmother (including mine) used to make—is created with homemade chicken or turkey stock. You may use a high-quality broth from the store, however.

The trick to this soup is not to make the matzo balls too big; if you do, they swell up and overwhelm your soup! You may of course jazz up the soup by adding chopped vegetables and/or a little ginger to the matzo balls. As a sodium freak I actually like to add a drop of soy sauce to my stock. My grandmother made basic matzo ball soup, however, so basic matzo ball soup this is.

When I make or taste it I am transported back to the home at which we visited my grandparents in Long Beach, New York. This tiny house always seemed to expand to accommodate the many relatives and friends who came to visit, particularly at Passover. My grandmother’s Seder table there was a symbol of her hospitality, of her generous personality, and of the ties that brought family and friends together at holidays. It was never without matzo ball soup.

For more information about Laura’s Grandma’s Recipes event, click here. Meanwhile, here is MY grandma’s recipe.

The Weisblat Family a few months before coming from Poland to the United States. From left to right: Sarah, Selma, Benny, Baby Abe (my father!), and William (then known as Wolf)

Ingredients:

2 eggs
2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
2 tablespoons minced fresh dill
a small amount of finely chopped onion (optional)
2 tablespoons soda water
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil or melted butter
3/4 teaspoon salt
freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup matzo meal
6 cups chicken stock

Instructions:

In a small bowl, beat the eggs. With a balloon whisk, whisk in the parsley, dill, onion (if using), soda water, oil, salt, and pepper. Then stir in the matzo meal. Cover the mixture, and refrigerate it for at least an hour but not more than 6 hours.

Oil your hands, and shape the dough into small balls (about 1/2 inch across). Pop the balls CAREFULLY into salted boiling water.

Boil the balls, covered, for 25 minutes over medium-low heat. Do not peek at the balls while they are cooking. Drain the matzo balls. Bring the chicken stock to a boil, covered, and put the balls in it. Boil, covered, for at least 15 minutes. Serves 4 to 6.

My grandparents later in life (perhaps the 1950s?)

Community Easter Bread

Leigh watches Michael and Benjamin place their eggs in the bread.

Easter just wouldn’t be Easter without the Easter egg.

This symbol of spring represents fertility, youth, and new beginnings—all the hopes that suddenly arise in our breasts when the sun rises higher and earlier again in the spring.

This braided loaf is made more festive (and more seasonal) by the inclusion of eggs in its folds. Plain eggs work just fine, but I always welcome an excuse to get kids coloring things so I asked my nephew Michael and his friends Benjamin and Carson to dye some eggs for my loaf.

Carson rolls an egg in dye.

I got extra help from my sister-in-law Leigh, who is MUCH better at braiding bread than I am.

So my Easter bread is a community event. I hope yours will be, too!

Leigh braids the rolls of bread.

Ingredients:

2/3 cup milk
2 tablespoons sweet butter
1/4 cup sugar
1 packet yeast
2-1/2 cups flour (approximately)
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs for the batter4 to 5 eggs in their shells for the braiding (dyed if you like)

Instructions:

In a small saucepan heat the milk and butter just to lukewarm; the butter will be soft but not melted.

In a medium bowl combine 1 teaspoon of the sugar and the yeast. Pour the milk/butter mixture over them, and leave the yeast to proof for 5 to 10 minutes.

Beat in 1/2 cup flour, the remaining sugar, the salt, and the 2 eggs; mix well. Add 1-1/2 cups more flour, and stir.

Turn the dough out onto a floured board. Knead it for 1 to 2 minutes, adding a bit more flour as needed. Allow the dough to rest for 5 to 10 minutes; then continue kneading, adding more flour as needed, until the dough is smooth and elastic.

Grease a medium bowl, and place the dough in it. Cover with a damp towel, and allow the dough to rise until it doubles in bulk, about 1 hour.

Uncover the dough, punch it down, and divide it into 2 mounds. Let them rest for 5 to 10 minutes. Stretch each mound into a roll at least 24 inches long.

Form a rounded braid with the two rolls, sealing them at the ends. Place the bread on a greased (or parchment-covered) baking sheet. Insert the eggs in their shells into spots in the braid. (If you wait to do this until the bread has risen again, the eggs will pop out of the bread; this happened to us!)

Cover the braid with a damp dish towel, and let it rise until it doubles, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees about 15 minutes before you want to bake the bread.

Bake the braided bread until it is a golden brown, between 35 and 55 minutes depending on your oven. Makes 1 loaf (well, one round; I’m not sure whether this shape should be called a loaf!).

Aunt Fox's Hawley Haroseth

We’re so used to artificial light that we forget how many traditional holidays are based on the cycles of the sun. Easter and Passover (and just about every spring holiday there is) are examples. Both holidays are tied to the vernal equinox. On that welcome day we finally achieve parity between dark and light and start lurching toward the golden days and gentle evenings of summer.

Like the vernal equinox itself, Passover and Easter mix dark and light. That mixture is key to the two festivals. The Jews’ flight from Egypt more than 3000 years ago is meaningless unless one understands the harsh slavery under which the Jewish people served the Pharaohs. The joy of Easter is possible because of the sorrow of Good Friday.

As a food writer and food lover I appreciate the centrality of food to both of these holidays, particularly Passover. Passover illustrates the connection we all feel but too seldom articulate between food and memory. Food is used at Passover to symbolize the history the holiday commemorates and to bring people together to remember this shared history.

The centerpiece of the holiday is the meal known as the Seder, in which families gather to retell the story of the departure from Egypt. Much of the Seder’s menu is prescribed by tradition, and during the meal the symbolism of each item on the table is explained.

A bitter herb (usually horseradish) symbolizes the hardship of the slaves’ life, for example. My personal favorite symbol, Haroseth (also spelled “charoset” and a variety of other ways), is a paste of fruits and nuts. It represents the mortar the Jews used to construct buildings—most famously the pyramids.

Many years ago my honorary Aunt Carolyn Fox brought this haroseth to a Seder at our home in Hawley, Massachusetts. Growing up I ate haroseth moistened with wine. As a lover of sweets I was thrilled with her use of grape juice instead. The last time I made it I used crangrape juice, adding a little New England tang to this Passover staple. Next time I’m thinking of using straight cranberry juice…….

The Haroseth

Ingredients:

2 tart apples, peeled and cored
1/2 cup pecans
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon honey
1 tablespoon grape (or crangrape or maybe cranberry) juice

Instructions:

Finely chop the apples and pecans separately; then chop them together to make even smaller pieces. Stir in the cinnamon, honey, and juice.

Spoon a bit of haroseth on a piece of matzo for each guest.

Makes 12 small servings.

Hot Cross Buns

Easter is coming—and before we get to it we arrive at the time for one of my favorite treats. Hot cross buns are a sweet yeasty roll traditionally served at the end of Lent, specifically on Good Friday. The cross of icing that tops them symbolizes the crucifixion, although it was adapted from a pagan symbol that represented either the four quarters of the moon or the perfect balance of the sun at the vernal equinox, March 21.

A monk named Thomas Rockcliffe began distributing the buns to the poor in St. Albans in England in 1361 as part of a missionary effort. They became a popular treat throughout the country.

When Elizabeth I was queen (her father Henry VIII had banned the Catholic Church for reasons of his own) she outlawed the consumption of the buns except during religious festivals-—burials, Good Friday, and Christmas. Vendors on the streets of London are said to have hawked the buns enthusiastically on the days on which they were allowed to be sold, giving rise to the nursery rhyme:

Hot cross buns, hot cross buns,
One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns.
If ye have no daughters, give them to your sons.
One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns.

Many make the buns with glaceed fruits and/or citrus peel instead of (or in addition to) the raisins or currants. I like them best this way.

Ingredients:

for the buns:

1 generous teaspoon active dry yeast (about half a packet)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup lukewarm water
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) sweet butter
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
2 to 2-1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (generous)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt (generous)
2/3 cup raisins or currants

for the glaze:

1 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
milk as needed
(for a different flavor, try substituting orange juice for the vanilla and milk)

Instructions:

In a small dish combine the yeast, 1 teaspoon of the sugar, and the lukewarm water. Leave them for 5 minutes or so to proof. While they are proofing, heat the milk and butter just to lukewarm.

In a large bowl combine the yeast, water, milk, butter, remaining sugar, egg, and vanilla, and whisk them together. Stir in the baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Beat in 1 cup flour and the raisins or currants; then stir in enough flour so that the mixture begins to stick together. Turn the mixture out onto a floured board, and knead it for a minute or two, adding more flour if necessary. Leave the mixture to rest for 10 minutes.

At the end of the rest period, continue kneading, adding more flour as needed, until the mixture becomes smooth and elastic. Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover it with a damp towel, and let it rise until it almost doubles in bulk (1 to 1-1/2 hours). Place the dough on a floured or greased board, knead it 2 or 3 times to release air bubbles, and divide it into 12 pieces that are as close in size as you can make them.

Roll the pieces into little balls, and place them on a large greased cookie sheet. Cover again with a damp towel, and let rise until almost double in size, 45 minutes to an hour. About 15 minutes before you think the buns will be finished rising, preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Uncover the buns, and gently slash a cross on each with a serrated knife (this doesn’t always work perfectly but isn’t 100 percent necessary). Bake the buns for 18 to 22 minutes, until they turn light golden brown. Remove them from the cookie sheet and cool them on a rack for a few minutes.

While they begin to cool, make the glaze by whisking the vanilla into the confectioner’s sugar and then adding milk, a tiny bit at a time, until you have a thick glaze. Applying the glaze is a matter of timing. The buns must be a little cool (so the glaze doesn’t run off entirely) but not too cool (in which case they glaze doesn’t stick). After 15 to 20 minutes of cooling, try spooning the glaze into the criss-crosses on the buns to form a cross. If it runs off too much (it will always run off a little), wait a few more minutes.

Allow the buns to cool after glazing, then place them carefully in a container that won’t mess up the glaze. Try to eat these buns within 2 days. They are most delicious with lots of butter.

Makes 12 buns.

Easter is coming!