Celebrating St. Nick

 

In 1943, when I was 11 years old, we moved to a neighborhood on the banks of the Ohio River called the East End.  Our area which included the gas works, the water works, St. Rose Church and School, First Federated Church and Highlands Elementary School, was made up of various ethnic backgrounds – German, Hungarian, Irish, African-American, and ”Americans” who were a mix of a lot of nationalities.  Many of the grandparents were immigrants, many of the parents were first-generation Americans.  Everyone generally got along very well, although some families fought amongst themselves or were disdainful of other nationalities.  An immigrant German grandmother who lived next door to us spoke disparagingly of the Hungarians in the neighborhood, one of whom was her daughter-in-law.  Many of the Irish families had their own battles between the Collins, Breen, McCarthy, Hathorn and other assorted families.  My sister and I were accustomed to being with children of diverse backgrounds when we attended Raschig School in downtown Cincinnati.  My sister had her picture taken in Kindergarten with children who were Greek, Chinese, Hungarian, and African-American.  She stood at the front of the line and under her picture was a caption, Shirley Applegate, American.  The picture appeared in the evening newspaper and that clipping was framed and hung in our home until after World War II.  A copy of the picture with all of the children is on display in the World War II exhibit at the Cincinnati Museum Center in the old Union Terminal.

 

 

The despised Hungarian daughter-in-law lived three doors up the street from us and she was a lovely woman with a houseful of kids.   This is a picture of my sister and me behind one of the German/Hungarian daughters in our front yard.

 

Despite our exposure to lots of nationalities, we had never heard of anyone celebrating St. Nick (Nicholas) on December 6.  The first year we were in the neighborhood, we were surprised to receive a gift from our Hungarian neighbor.  It was a small square tin with calla lilies on the lid and inside was a hand crocheted, old-world-looking ear warmer. 

 

I was so impressed and the lady told us how they always celebrated St. Nick with small gifts, candy and nuts for the children.  I vowed then that if I ever had children, I would have them hang up their stockings and St. Nick would come during the night and fill them to the brim. 

Since my first daughter’s birth in 1954, we’ve gone through the routine each year and I still give St. Nick gifts to all four children, six grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.  My two daughters also loved the tradition and there is a very generous exchange between us of gifts and sweets for St. Nick. 

We’ve used various stockings through the years, usually handmade, and these are the stockings that are hanging on my mantel right now, awaiting a visit from St. Nick.  My oldest daughter  requested a country-style quilted stocking when I first began quilting 5 years ago.

When my youngest daughter was a teenager, she made this crocheted stocking for me.

She also embroidered this stocking for me a few years ago.  It’s a Mary Engelbreit pattern which sums up my feelings for this season perfectly:

I love Christmas! (and St. Nick)

Christmas Village

As soon as the leftover turkey is in the refrigerator and the big graniteware roaster is washed and stored away for another year, I begin setting up my Christmas village.   The village is the most time-consuming decorating I do (except maybe for the tree which my two youngest grandchildren always set up for me).  My first illuminated house, an early Department 56 model, was a gift from my oldest daughter and youngest son.

It has been joined over the years by a church (handpainted by my oldest daughter), and school.

Three Department 56 pieces commemorate visits to Germany, Austria and England.

There’s a “Wonderful Life” train station and a “Christmas Story” Higbee’s Department Store.

There’s a barndance barn with musicians and dancers to honor all the years my husband and I enjoyed square dancing plus a farm barn with all kinds of animals to remember the years we lived in the country.

There’s a miller’s house, a windmill and a lighthouse…..

There’s a 30s style movie theatre and garage….

an antique store, a bank, a large house, a toy store, a JoAnn’s shop, and a gift store.

 

And, of course, there are countless small figures of people, animals, telegraph poles, clocks, etc., and all the lighting to put in place.   This all started out just taking up the top of the piano but now it’s spread out over five different surfaces and I love it when everything is set up and all the lights are turned on.  Now, it’s really time for the Christmas season to start.

My Mother’s Birthday

 

My mother died in 1991 – she would have been 91 years old on this November 28th.  When she was 72, she made a tape, telling all of the family stories she could recall.  She gave this accounting of the day she was born in  Morrow, a small railroad town in Ohio.

“On Thanksgiving Day my father came downstairs and he told my mother, he said, “I dreamed we had a little girl and we named her Martha” and she said, “Well, you better go get the doctor because I think your dream’s going to come true” and he went for the doctor and I was born before the doctor got there.  He went running down and said, “Hurry up, hurry up, doctor, the baby’s already here” and old Doc said, “There’s no use hurrying if your baby’s already here.”

So, we always associated Mother’s birthday with Thanksgiving and occasionally it even fell on the exact day.  In 1952, her birthday was on the day after Thanksgiving.  I had been away from home for the first time, living with my new sailor husband in Portsmouth, Virginia.  As it turned out, my husband got an early discharge from the Navy and was due to go home the first week of December.  I wanted to surprise my mother by walking in on her birthday and we decided I would go home alone and my husband would follow when his discharge came through, so we spent our first Thanksgiving together just waiting around for time for me to get on the train and never did get a Thanksgiving meal. 

I rode on the clackety train all night and arrived home on a chilly November morning.  I walked out of Union Terminal in downtown Cincinnati, hailed a cab and watched the familiar landscape go by the window with complete joy, vowing to never leave Cincinnati again.  We pulled up to the front of my parents’ little house and I got out of the cab to pay the driver.

My father was just coming through the gate and he stopped short.  He didn’t say anything to me, but turned and called back to Mother, “Lil’s home.”  My favorite image of heaven is that I will pass to the other side and will see my father in the distance, wearing his twill pants and plaid shirt.  He won’t speak to me or raise a hand in greeting – he’ll just turn to the others and say, “Lil’s home.”

 

I had the supreme pleasure of walking through the side door into the dining room and completely surprising Mother on her birthday. 

 

I know that Mother’s best gift that year was having her daughter back home and since we rented the upstairs apartment from my parents for 8 years (at the astounding fee of $12.00 a month) before our family got too large, we had a lot of wonderful times together.

I always think of Mother on Thanksgiving and all the great dinners we had together, but I remember especially the year that I was one day late for Thanksgiving but right on time for a special birthday.

My Sure-Fire Pie Crust

 

My first job in 1950 was as a secretary in Procter & Gamble’s corporate offices in downtown Cincinnati.  As a new employee, I received a large picnic basket full of P&G products, a leatherette box with the P&G logo filled with chocolates and my favorite item of all, a Crisco cookbook – New Recipes for Good Eating, copyright 1948. 

I first heard about Crisco in high school home ec classes.  My mother, always on a strict budget, used lard (and made wonderful pies), margarine or bacon grease.  Occasionally, she’d buy a tiny one-pound can of Crisco for me to make a special dessert.  After I was married in 1952, also on a strict budget, I still managed to find the money for Crisco.  I started cooking in earnest and literally wore out the cookbook.  The pages are dog-eared and stained – and some of them are missing.

About 50 years later, I happened to find the same cookbook in pristine condition in an antique market.  Apparently, its owner didn’t cook as much as I did, or she was neater.

My favorite recipe in the book was for “Crisco’s Sure Fire” two-crust 9″ pie.  Over the years, I changed the ingredients a little bit and developed a technique that worked well for me, although it’s not the method that the cookbook or any home ec class ever recommended.  I’ve won ribbons at countless pie contests with this crust, including the Ohio State Fair, plus pie has always been the dessert of choice for my family for the past 55 years.  Here is my version of the recipe and the way I mix the ingredients.

MY SURE-FIRE PIE CRUST

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup Crisco vegetable shortening
• 1/3 cup ice water

In a medium size mixing bowl, place the flour and salt.  Note:  I measure the flour by dipping the cup into the canister and then leveling it off.  Stir flour and salt with a fork to mix.  Add 3/4 cup Crisco shortening and cut in.  I use my hands so I can feel the texture and know by now when it’s just right.  Pour the ice water (always use ice water) into a dry measure 1/3 cup to the top and pour into flour mixture (don’t use a liquid measuring cup).  Using a fork, stir the mixture in circles until it forms a ball.  Divide the dough in half and roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface with short, light strokes, rolling from the center to the edges to about 12″ diameter.  To keep the dough from sticking, I pick it up, turn it over and reposition, dusting very lightly with flour when necessary.  I also continually wipe the rolling pin of any dough that’s sticking.  With everything you do, use the lightest touch possible.  It’s also possible to roll out the dough between sheets of waxed paper.

Place the dough in a pie pan and trim the edges.  Continue with the filling you choose and the top crust.  Bake according to your recipe’s directions.

The recipe can be used for one two-crust 9″ pie or two one-crust 9″ pies.  I never double the recipe and I never make half a recipe.  If there’s any pastry left over, I put it in a plastic bag and keep it in the freezer until I’m ready to use it. 

Walt’s Polish Stuffing

 

I call this “Polish Stuffing” only because I got the general instructions from a wonderful Polish gentleman in my office (about 20 years ago).  I’m sure he used some kind of great sausage and maybe some extra herbs, but this was my version and my family always wants a side casserole of this stuffing for Thanksgiving.  I don’t stuff the bird with it in consideration of those who don’t like spicy ingredients in their turkey.  First, though, I make the bread that I use, an adaptation of an old Saco Buttermilk Powder recipe.

HERB BREAD FOR STUFFING

• 4-1/4 to 4-3/4 cups all purpose flour
• 2 packages fast-rising yeast
• 1/4 cup SACO buttermilk powder
• 2 Tblsp. granulated sugar
• 2-1/2 tsp. salt
• 2 Tblsp. shortening
• 1-3/4 cups of water heated to 130 degrees F
• 1 tsp. sage
• 2 tsp. celery seed
• 1/8 tsp. nutmeg
• 1/8 tsp. black pepper

In the large bowl of an electric mixer, place 2 cups of flour, yeast, buttermilk powder, sugar, salt.  Mix to blend and add the 130 degree F water and shortening.  Beat on medium high for 3 minutes.  Insert dough hook and add sage, celery, seed, nutmeg and pepper.  Beat for a total of 6-1/2 minutes more, adding flour as necessary to make a stiff dough.  If necessary, knead a small amount of flour into the dough by hand.  Cover and place in a warm spot to rise for 30 minutes.  Punch down and spread dough in a thin layer in an oiled jelly roll pan.  Cover and let rise for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.  Bake bread for approximately 15 minutes until dough has baked through and the top is golden brown.

Let cool on a wire rack.  Best to make the bread the day before use and then cut it into small cubes.

Note:  If I don’t have time to make this bread, I use a purchased 14 oz. bag of seasoned bread cubes.

RECIPE FOR WALT’S POLISH STUFFING

• 1 lb. of good spicy hot pork sausage, cooked until the pink is gone
• 1 cup celery, chopped
• 1 cup onion, chopped
• 12 cups of herb bread cubes or 14 oz. pkg.
• 2 cups chicken broth
• Freshly ground black pepper

Mix all of the above ingredients together and place in an oiled baking dish.  Cover and bake approximately 20 minutes @ 350 degrees F.  Uncover and bake another 10 minutes.

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving

 

About this time of year – a week or so before Thanksgiving, I start getting ready for the big day.  At this point, it’s mostly paper work.  I only feed 6 people but I need enough food to cover a big Thanksgiving dinner at noon, leftovers for supper and a huge bag of food to send home and eat over the weekend.  This requires organization, so this week I do my lists:  Menu, groceries needed, groceries on hand, shopping list, to do list, cooking schedule.  I do all of the cooking myself – my choice – and do as much as possible beforehand.  My family likes pie so I make a lot of them – one apple, three pumpkin and sometimes one by popular request (in past years these have been pecan, blueberry peach, grape, cherry).  Two crust pies can be made in advance and put in the freezer.  The trick is to take them out the night before and in the morning, do a quick bake to crisp them up.  I also make the pie crust for the pumpkin pies ahead of time but like these pies baked fresh on Thanksgiving day. 

My schedule calls for picking up the turkey on Tuesday so I can have Wednesday free for advance cooking.  On Wednesday, I make a Polish Sausage Stuffing, bake sweet potatoes (less marshmallows), steam cauliflower, and get fruit pies and yeast rolls made the previous week from the freezer.

Thanksgiving Day starts with having the turkey stuffed with regular dressing in the oven by 5 AM.  With more space in the refrigerator, I put the cranberry sauce inside to chill, then fill the pumpkin pies and take the turkey out long enough for them to bake.  At the same time, I crisp the fruit pies, then put the turkey back in the oven and sit down for breakfast – usually pretty light on Thanksgiving.  I prepare the relish tray, put other items in the refrigerator to chill and peel, cook and mash potatoes.  These can be kept warm in a crock pot for up to 2 hours.  Then I set the table and get the turkey out of the oven to rest.  I use this time to heat the sweet potatoes and Polish stuffing.  In the final minutes, I fry the breaded cauliflower that my daughter always requests, put the rolls in the oven and get the turkey onto a platter.  By noon, it’s time for everyone to come to the table.

Every year, I make up a souvenir menu for each person, usually using a photo from the year before.  My menu photo last year was of my youngest daughter and her children doing the traditional testing to see if the turkey is done.

I always call this my yearly cooking marathon.  I’ve had marathons in past years when I had fruits and vegetables to process quickly from a large garden and a lot of baking to do in preparation for a fair, but this is my only marathon now and I enjoy it.

Remembering WW II Veterans

Throughout my childhood, November 11 was called Armistice Day to commemorate the end of World War I  at 11 o’clock on the 11th day of the 11th month – the war to end all wars.  Then came World War II and somewhere along the line the name was changed to Veterans Day to honor the veterans of all wars.

There were many veterans in my family during World War II.  Three of my uncles served for the entire duration of the war.  The first uncle, Frank, was drafted before Pearl Harbor, just months after he had married a young girl who had to wait for 4 years before they could resume their married life.  Frank sent great letters home to everyone, including me.  My mother thought he made my letters especially history/geography related, assuming I’d be taking them to school and he was right.  Almost every day, someone brought a letter from some distant war zone to share with the class. 

One letter from December 20, 1943, tells about a nine-day leave he had just completed in London.  He wrote, “I saw some good shows while I was there and ate at some of the most famous places, rode the subway and two-deck buses all over, and set my watch by Big Ben.  I had a good look all over the city and London was really blown up during the blitz.”

In a letter to my father dated May 29, 1942, he tells about a radio they were able to get to listen to news from home.  “The Lieutenant got us a radio the other day – an Echophone Commercial – it is made in Illinois and it’s a pretty good set.  It has 3 wave bands.  It’s an amateur outfit something like a Sky Buddy.  It has a B.F.O. and a jack for head phones if you want to use them.  It also has a band spread.  It only cost us about $32 American and that also included one of those long fish pole aerials, too.  We get the U.S. just as clear as if we were at home. ”

Frank was a big guy, rather fair-haired with a loud voice and a hearty laugh.  He told a lot of jokes and funny stories, all of them punctuated regularly by his laugh.  In another letter to my father , Frank writes, “I am still getting close to the good earth.  I have holes dug all over to hide in and I can sure as hell use them sometimes even if it’s only to keep away from work – ha ha.”

Frank was part of Patton’s Third Army through the Battle of the Bulge.  He sent home these pictures captioned “Pagny (Moselle) France” and “Taken at Metz”.

My uncle Phil followed his brother into the service and served his time with the Merchant Marines. 

Phil didn’t write as often, but we do have a couple of letters from his training days in St. Petersburg, Florida.

Phil wrote in 1942, “Well, I guess you still feel the after effects of Thanksgiving, eh?  Did you have turkey?  We did but I didn’t enjoy it at all.  Some of the fellows here didn’t get any turkey at all.  The cooks thought they had plenty and the ones that got there first sure got plenty.”  And, “By the time I get out of here the damn war will be over.  But I can tell people I was in the Merchant Marines in St. Petersburg, Fla.  Ha! Ha!”

It turned out that he did get out of Florida and saw action throughout the remainder of the war.

The third uncle to leave, Mike, was in the Air Force, was shot down over Germany, spent about a year in a German prison camp, and eventually escaped.  He served for the remainder of the war and after coming home, became an FBI agent.

Among the letters home, I also have a letter from their mother to my parents.  I had been with Grandma many times when she went to the big rural mailbox, hoping for word from one of her sons, only to find it empty.  In her letter of February 4, 1942, she’s concerned about not hearing from Frank.  “I am so worried about Frank, I don’t know what to do.  I have cried all day.  I could just scream as loud as can be.  We don’t know where he will be.  I had my picture and a prayer book for him but now I have to wait until I hear from him.  I sent him some homemade doughnuts and an angel food cake.  He said he wouldn’t leave until Monday and here he left on Saturday.”

“Frank sent me a fine pillow top and it has Camp Walters, Texas, on it in big letters and a flag and red roses and a mother reading on it.  It made me cry as I am so blue about him.  If I only knew he would be safe. 

I will close and say goodnight.  It is 10:30 PM and it sure is raining up here – a good time for the blues.”

All three sons survived the war and came home to raise families, take up careers and eventually retire.  These three veterans are all gone now, as are most of the World War II men after over 60 years, but on this Veterans Day, it’s good to remember them and the ones they left behind.

Thanksgiving Wall Hangings

 

Several years ago, my daughter gave me a great redwork piece showing Grandma and kids preparing Thanksgiving dinner.  I had just started quilting and designed a bottom piece to make a wall hanging. 

Above the Thanksgiving scene, I hang a punch needle pumpkin that my daughter made. 

 

She also does rug hooking and made a turkey for the front door ….

….and one with three pumpkins for fall decorating.

I look forward to getting out all these pretty things each November to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Election Day Memories

Election Day and the months leading up to it were major events in our home when I was growing up.  My father railed against Franklin Delano Roosevelt and the Democrats and supported the Republican candidates with great enthusiasm and lots of backup facts and figures.  He was a strong supporter of Wendell Wilkie and of Tom Dewey.  I can’t say as a child I liked their looks any better than I did President Roosevelt’s, but if my father said they were worthwhile, I had no argument.

I don’t recall if we had a lot of coverage of election news in the classroom or if I got all of my information from my father, but I was always very much aware of the people, if not the issues.  I awoke on the morning after Election Day with much excitement, assuming each time that my father’s party had won – but it never did.  We sat at the wooden table in the big kitchen on Court Street, bowls of oatmeal in front of us, and listened to the results on the radio with despair.  The year that Wilkie lost to  Roosevelt, I went down the stairs from our third floor apartment to the back alley that led to Central Parkway and then to Raschig School.  I was completely disheartened that Wilkie had lost and suddenly I looked down and saw a discarded Wilkie campaign button on the street.  I picked it up, ready to pin it on my dress and wear it to school when my mother called down and told me to “put that thing down”.  She was probably as concerned about my picking up something from that dirty alley as she was about the political implications.

My father was just as much opposed to Harry S. Truman but in later years found that there was much in President Truman that he admired.  He never did acknowledge any merit to President Roosevelt, though.

In 1952, I was the new bride of a sailor and living in Portsmouth, Virginia.  Although I was too young to vote, I was fascinated with the race between Adlai Stevenson and Dwight D. Eisenhower. 

 

I just assumed my father was still a staunch Republican, but didn’t realize that he had lost all interest in politics.  My letters home to my mother and sister were filled with enthusiasm over the race and requests for my “I Like Ike” button to be mailed to me.   My mother kept those letters all those years and they’re a good record of my feelings at the time.

In my letter written the day after Eisenhower’s election, I said that my radio was acting up and I wasn’t able to get the early morning results.  I’m sure I got them after I got to work where I was not only the sole “Yankee” in the place but also a Republican surrounded by deep south Democrats.  I had Frank take my picture with my “I Like Ike” button on my lapel.

Eisenhower did win the election and I sent a letter home with sketches of Frank, the Democrat, being very sad and of me, who backed the winner, being very happy.

 

 

By the next year, 1953, I was 21 years old and able to vote.  I haven’t missed an election since that time and with the passing years have bounced back and forth between political parties.  At this point, I consider myself an Independent.

I realized as the years went by that my father was neither Republican nor Democrat.  He was for the underdog, no matter what the party affiliation was, so his candidate never won.

Mary’s Carrot Cake

 

I first tried this recipe in November of 1985 after seeing it in a magazine.  It was supposed to be the recipe of Mary Frann who was the wife on the Bob Newhart show about the country inn in Vermont.  Our family had never tried carrot cake before and we became absolutely addicted to it – this cake and any other carrot cake we could find in restaurants or bakeries.  Then, we got into other things and I haven’t made the cake for a long time, although my youngest daughter did enter it in the Hamilton County (Cincinnati) Fair two years ago.

My two daughters were here for dinner today and they agreed it’s as good as they remembered.

MARY’S CARROT CAKE

• 1-1/2 cups vegetable oil (I use Canola)
• 2 cups granulated sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 tsp. cinnamon
• 2 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. salt
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 tsp. vanilla
• 2 cups grated carrots
• 1 cup chopped walnuts
• 1/2 cup drained, crushed pineapple

Grease and flour one 13×9 pan.  I like to use two small antique tube pans (8″ dia. x 2-3/4″ high) and divide the batter between them.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a large mixer bowl, combine oil, sugar and eggs – beat well.

In a medium bowl, sift together the cinnamon, soda, salt and flour.  Add to large mixer bowl and beat well.  Add vanilla, carrots, nuts and pineapple, beating slowly with mixer or by hand to blend.

Pour into prepared pans and bake @ 350 – approximately 50 minutes for the 13×9 pan and 30-40 minutes for the smaller pans.

Let cool on rack and frost with cream cheese frosting:

• 8 oz. cream cheese, softened
• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• One pound confectioner’s sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla

This is an easy cake to make and really good.