I have been washing dishes and pots and pans for the bulk of the morning. It was not a chore, but a time travel experience. My mother's house is being sold in the next few days and the appraiser said that there was nothing valuable in the kitchen, but that did not hold true for me. After building that house and living in it for 50 years, my mother is in every room in that house. I put some kitchen gadgets, pots and pans, and other odd items from the kitchen in a box. The cake pans still had some crusted cake along the edges as Mom could not see as well toward the end of her baking career. Believe me, she would have had that pan sparkling had she known there was even a crumb left.
I grabbed a couple of those cake pans that also doubled for her rolls. Mom's rolls were infamous--for a lot of reasons. She would take them to friends, doctors, her CPA, families who had experienced a death, and of course, us. She served them often when we were growing up, and then later when we would visit. She would sprinkle them with brown sugar and cinnamon for breakfast when my girls would come to visit. Sometimes she would use the same recipe for doughnuts and stick them in hot oil. YUM. And they were delicious--most of the time. But sometimes the yeast would have fermented just a bit in the process of rising and they would taste a bit alcoholic--what you want in a drink but not really in bread. And she would, of course, not know it (she rarely ate any) and when we refused the second or third helping, it would hurt her feelings. I don't remember anyone ever telling her that they weren't the same wonderful rolls when that happened. She always had a package or two in her freezer for us to take back home after we had visited her, and I almost always had a package in my freezer ready to pull out for a special occasion. If you tried to turn her down and tell her that you were on a diet, or you weren't eating bread at that time, she would still insist, and you could see the hurt in her eyes if you didn't take a package or two. After all, they were a lot of trouble to make, and she was proud she was able to make them. And when my mom insisted......well........
I also found the muffin tin in which she baked popovers. I can still remember looking forward to those on the rare occasion she baked them before school. When we lived on Ash Street, Don Langley would stop by our breakfast room which faced the sidewalk, and Mom would hand him a popover through the window. I wonder what happened to Don. He made it quite a habit to stop by on his bike on his way to school, and Mom always shared whatever we had with him.
Mom no longer cooks, but we still talk about her pies, cakes, breads and candy. She was a Home Economics major (is that even offered anymore?) and was happiest in the kitchen and at the sewing machine. For me, Sister Schubert's will have to do, but I may have to find that popover recipe soon. I want to get it right for my grandkids.
I also found the muffin tin in which she baked popovers. I can still remember looking forward to those on the rare occasion she baked them before school. When we lived on Ash Street, Don Langley would stop by our breakfast room which faced the sidewalk, and Mom would hand him a popover through the window. I wonder what happened to Don. He made it quite a habit to stop by on his bike on his way to school, and Mom always shared whatever we had with him.
Mom no longer cooks, but we still talk about her pies, cakes, breads and candy. She was a Home Economics major (is that even offered anymore?) and was happiest in the kitchen and at the sewing machine. For me, Sister Schubert's will have to do, but I may have to find that popover recipe soon. I want to get it right for my grandkids.
