Appalachian Word of the Week -- WISH BOOK

The one thing I wished for almost as much as Christmas was the Christmas WISH BOOK.

When it arrived in the mail, I squealed with delight and hoped I could get my hands on it before my brother or my sister. I spent hours flipping through the pages. The pages of toys, that is. I drooled over the fabulous offerings of toys -- baby dolls, art supplies, jewelry, and household items to use in my playhouse.

Daddy built my playhouse out of leftover lumber from an old chicken house. He also installed a door and double windows. I spent every day it was warm enough in my house, dreaming of when I grew up.

The WISH BOOK often caused us kids to fight. Of course, Mom reminded us that Santa could see us being bad and it hushed us up for a little bit.

We didn't receive toys or treats very often during the rest of the year. Even on my birthday. Unfortunately, my birthday came so close to Christmas that one of my Christmas gifts was designated as my birthday present.

All gifts came from Santa

That didn't settle well with me. Not only because I felt cheated out of a gift, but because during those years of believing in Santa, all of my gifts came under the tree, unwrapped, from Santa. That meant that my birthday gift came from Santa, not my parents.

For years my heart broke when my parents gave other people beautifully wrapped gifts, but they never ever gave one to me. In my sensitive heart, I thought that meant they didn't love me. Much later, when I mentioned it to my mom, she was flabbergasted. She had never even thought about it.

I, on the other hand, made sure when my son was born that the best gifts were wrapped and bore a tag with his name and that they were from Mom and Dad. Santa only brought the little stuff.

Our WISH BOOK managed to go from pristine and new to torn and ragged by the time our WISH list had been sent to Santa. A lot of wishing happened on those pages.

Today, I do most of my WISH BOOK viewing on Google. It doesn't have the same effect. Of course, I'm much older now and don't dream for small gifts like I did in the pages of the WISH BOOK. Now I wish for things like improved health, enough money to pay the bills, and being content with what I have. Of course, this year I did think how nice it would be for Santa to bring me a new car. My expectations are much lower than when I was a child though.

Do you remember the old WISH BOOK of our youth? Was your favorite the Sears or Montgomery Ward?

Each year before Christmas, Dad drove us over to Middlesboro to visit the Montgomery Ward store on Main Street. I loved the lights, trees, and decorations in town and in the stores. Mom took care of her gift shopping while Dad took us to Woolworth for a treat at the food counter. I didn't realize until many years later that Mom sneaked our gifts from Santa into the trunk of our car while we had a triple-decker club sandwich and a milkshake at Woolworth's.

What do you remember about your WISH BOOK? What was your favorite gift?

I'd love to hear your stories.

Merry Christmas and may your grandest wishes come true.

Mountain Memories -- Steel Saucer Sled

What was it every Appalachian kid dreamed about this time of year? Santa? Well, maybe. But what was the most important thing? Snow!

Snow--and lots of it--meant we could get out of school early for Christmas vacation. Snow meant we could have our fill of snowcream. But, most importantly, for some of us, it meant going sledding on the biggest hillside (or mountainside) we could find.

Near the bottom of the hill

I will never forget the Christmas morning my brother and I awoke to find a shiny, silver saucer sled under the Christmas tree. Now, we always got gifts from Santa, but they were rarely as awesome as that sled. Also, a deep snow had fallen on the mountain that week and still covered the mountain behind our house. We barely contained ourselves long enough to get bundled up before my brother grabbed the sled and shot out the back door.

My brother, Larry, being six years older, had control of the sled. He climbed up the hill where the garden is planted during the summer. That means it was mostly cleared of vegetation. I said mostly. Unfortunately, there were usually some corn stalks sticking up several inches, partially hidden by the snow. Also, the rows were a bit lumpy where mounds of dirt had been hoed across the hill.

Larry made it to the top, right next to a fence that separated our property from the family cemetery on the other side. He plopped down on the sled, grabbed hold of the handles, and rocked until the sled let go and flew down the mountain.

Coming down the hill

He screamed, "Woo-hoo," as he picked up speed. About that time, he hit one of those aforementioned protruding cornstalks and tumbled head over sled the rest of the way down the hill. I thought he would be a snowman, rolled up into the snow when he got to the bottom.



I squealed with laughter. Mom just squealed.

He built up so much speed as he rolled, that he didn't stop as the yard leveled out. He whammed into the back of the house with a big thud.

That's how our sled got its first dent.

We spent the day hiking up that hillside and sliding down. Often we took flight as we hit a cornstalk. Sometimes, we hit and tumbled. Each time we hit a row or built up dirt under the snow, we bounced on the steel sled. Our rears ached. It didn't matter. We laughed until our stomachs hurt. We mostly laughed at each other.

Taking flight as we hit a bump

After hours of trekking up that mountain, my face as red as Rudolph's nose and my fingers and feet numb from the cold, I decided it was time to take a break to eat and warm up. My brother continued sledding.

As the sun set behind the mountains and visibility became dim, which happens early in the mountains in winter, my mom went to the back door to call Larry inside for the day.

He ignored her.

As she started inside the house, she yelled up to him at the top the hill, next to the fence around the cemetery, "Larry, you'd better get inside before that little boy in the cemetery decides to ride on that sled with you."

He still ignored her as he completed his slide down the hill, grabbed the sled, and headed back up to the top.

Mom shook her head and came back inside.

A few minutes later we heard a loud crash into the back of the house. The door flew open and my brother whizzed into the house, slamming the door behind him. He stood in the doorway to the living room all red, covered in snow, panting, and staring with eyes as big as snowballs. He didn't say a word, just stood there.

He never told us what happened. However, Mom never had to tell him to come in before dusk ever again. As soon as the sun got near the ridge, he was inside, with the back door locked.


Did you have a saucer sled when you were a kid? Or did you use something else as a sled--like a car hood? Where did you ride it? Did you have a fabulous hill to slide down? Were there any wild adventures?

I'd love to hear your stories.

My brother, Larry, at the
bottom of the hill.
You can barely see the fence
to the cemetery 

Appalachian Word of the Week -- BALONEY SALAD

Of all the food I enjoyed eating around the Christmas season, the one that holds the sweetest memories for me is BALONEY SALAD sandwiches.

Every Christmas Eve, Granny would make a batch large enough to feed Harlan County for our party at her house. I could hardly wait to sink my teeth into a few of them.

BALONEY SALAD is the poor man’s ham.  At least that’s what my family said.

Here’s the recipe:

1 big log of baloney

Boiled eggs (About 4, according to size of batch)

Sweet gherkins, diced tiny

Mayonnaise (Granny used Miracle Whip)

Fitted to Granny’s kitchen table was a metal meat grinder. She peeled and cut the baloney into large chunks and fed it through the grinder. It came out into a big mixing bowl, looking like baloney spaghetti.

Then she fed the boiled eggs through the grinder, according to how much she was making.

Next, she chopped up her gherkins into tiny little bits and added them to the mixture. Mayo came last. Then she stirred it all up together until it became BALONEY SALAD.

Sometimes I got to help with the process. She especially let me help spread the salad onto fresh white Bunny Bread. That fresh, soft bread was the best in the world.

The sandwiches were sliced into two and then placed on platters, covered with foil or Saran Wrap, and then plopped them into the fridge until the party.

When the family arrived and the party was on the way, everyone dived into those BALONEY SALAD SANDWICHES as if they hadn’t eaten anything since Thanksgiving. There was rarely a morsel left at the end of the night.

Yes, those sandwiches still bring a smile to my face when I think about them. As I get older, I realize how special growing up in the mountains truly was. We didn’t have much, but we were abundantly wealthy. Wealth should be measured by your attitude toward your blessings.

As we near the time when we are expected to make resolutions for the new year, how about we look back on our lives and choose to find the blessings in even the smallest of things? I think it could add a lot of joy to our lives in the midst of such suffering and negativity continually being thrown at us.

What’s one memory from 2016 that you count as a blessing?

Appalachian Word of the Week -- SNOWCREAM

My childhood front yard

The appropriate word for the week, considering this is the first day of Winter, is one of my favorites -- SNOWCREAM!


As a youngster in the mountains of Harlan County, KY, I lived for the days when a massive snow covered the landscape. Not only did I enjoy playing in the snow, sliding down the mountainside in a saucer sled, and building a snow fort with my brother, but I loved making SNOWCREAM.


Of course, the process of making SNOWCREAM required us to collect fresh, clean (emphasis on clean) snow before anyone got outside and dirtied it up.


We gathered up all the largest pots and bowls from the kitchen and headed outside.

Now, there is a process to gathering snow. Since almost everybody around us heated their houses with coal, we had to first rake off the top layer of snow to remove the black spots of ash that had dropped onto the top layer. That completed, we began scooping snow into our bowls and pots.


Of course, we made sure not to scoop too close to the ground. Lots of dogs and wild animals used the ground for a litter box, so we made sure to avoid any yellow or brown snow. We also didn't want to get grass trimmings in our snow.


After gathering up all of our bowls and pots, we carried it inside to Mom, who was waiting with the bag of sugar, can of cream, vanilla flavoring and the salt box. She also had the hand mixer ready to get the job done faster.

She took the largest bowl and checked to make sure it was clean snow. Then she added about a cup of sugar and started mixing. Then she added pure cream out of the can. Some people make it with milk, but the flavor is nowhere near as good. Then she added vanilla flavoring and a pinch of salt. As the snow melted down, she scooped in more snow and the process continued until every bowl and pot of snow had been added to the mixture. She continued to add sugar and cream until the concoction was perfect and creamy.


She scooped out a bowl of snowcream for each of us and then put the main bowl into smaller bowls that would fit into the freezer for later.


Oh, what JOY to sit in front of the coal stove and eat that snowcream! Our fingers were numb and so were our lips, but we didn't care. It was glorious.

As we made our way through the main bowls of snowcream stored in the freezer, we sometimes added a bit of flavor to the mix. A favorite was Nehi Grape pop. We also tried peach pop, strawberry pop, or chocolate pop. If you don't know what pop is, you may call it soda or soft drink. Back in my day, we had some wonderful flavors available.


So, if you are fortunate enough to get a big snow where you live, why not give it a try and make some SNOWCREAM for yourself? Just make sure you watch out for yellow or brown snow.


Exact recipes don't work for our snowcream. You have to go by taste. If the mix is too sweet, add some snow. If it's not sweet enough, add more sugar. If it's not creamy enough, add more cream. You get the picture.


Have you ever eaten SNOWCREAM? Tell me about your experience.

Appalachian Word of the Week - SWEET PILLS

Appalachian Word of the Week – SWEET PILLS

I’m going to do something a little different this week. Instead of one word, I’m going to describe two words. SWEET PILLS

Not everybody called them that, but my mom and granny always used the term SWEET PILLS to describe all those luscious sweet confections we only got to eat during the Christmas season.

My all-time favorite is the FRUITCAKE.

Now, this isn’t the kind of fruitcake of jokes. Mom’s fruitcake was moist, spicy cake with candied fruit, raisins, and black walnuts. The best part of the cake was the top and the edge. Oh, my goodness, the chewiness made it heavenly. Nothing else compares. I truly miss those cakes.

Mom always hid the cakes, wrapped in tinfoil, somewhere in her bedroom. She doled out tiny slices only when she wanted to share. It nearly drove me crazy waiting for her to be in the mood to be generous.

Another popular treat in my house was FUDGE made from marshmallow cream. Mom wasn’t the greatest cook in the world, but she was a master fudge maker.  She generally made two large batches—one was plain and the other had English walnuts in it.

She poured the melted, creamy mixture into large platters. When it hardened, she sliced it into pieces. Most of the candy was hidden away like the fruitcake, but she usually left the smallest plate of fudge on the kitchen table for us to nibble on. I had a hard time staying out of the kitchen.

And then there was the APPLE STACK CAKE. The batter for this cake is totally different from most cakes. It is thicker consistency and you spread a thin layer into round pans to bake. It took forever, it seemed, because Mom only had two round pans. The first two layers had to cool enough to be removed safely before she could use the pans again to bake the next two layers.

Special thanks to Lady Behind the Curtain for the photo

While she waited between layers, she made the filling. After every layer had cooled, the cake was built by placing a layer, spooning on some of the apple mixture, and then the next layer, until it was completed.

My granny always made a BLACKBERRY JAM CAKE. It wasn’t my favorite because it was so sweet it gave me a tummy ache. I much preferred fruitcake. Her cake was quite popular with all the other houseguests, though.

One thing mountain women do at Christmas when they bake up a storm is to share. I remember my mom wrapping up pieces of cake or candy in tinfoil and then Christmas paper and tying it up with ribbon. She then dispersed her gifts to special people in the community. I remember her giving some to our garbage man, too.

If you’d like to try one of our mountain SWEET PILLS, I’ve given you the recipes from family files. Enjoy. Next week, I’ll tell you about another treat we only got to eat in winter.

Do you have any favorite SWEET PILLS from your mom or grandmother? I'd love to hear about them and where they originated.

RECIPES

MOM’S FRUITCAKE

2 ½ cups flour

2 cups sugar

1 ½ tsp soda

1 ½ tsp salt

¼ tsp baking powder

1 tsp cinnamon (or more)

1 tsp cloves (or more)

½ tsp allspice

1 ½ cups applesauce (a little extra helps make it moister)

½ cup water

½ cup shortening/butter

2 eggs

1 cup raisins (soaked in warm water and then drained)

½ chopped walnuts (add more) English or black

Mixed candied fruit

Heat oven to 350

Grease and flour baking pan

Measure all ingredients into large bowls (separate bowls for wet and dry ingredients) 

Alternate dry/wet/applesauce, then mix

Add fruit, nuts, raisins and blend ½ minute on low speed, scraping bowl occasionally

Pour into pan (preferably an angel food pan)

Bake 60-65 minutes

If doing layers, bake for 50 minutes

Cool before removing from pan.

MOM’S APPLE STACK CAKE

Ingredients for the Cake:

5 1/4 cups all-purpose flour like White Lily or a cake flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 to 1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon or ground ginger
2 1/2 cups firmly packed brown sugar (or 1 cup brown sugar and 1 cup molasses or sorghum)
1 cup butter
2 large eggs, beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 cup buttermilk

Directions for cake:

1. HEAT oven to 425°F.
2. “Grease and flour” seven (7) 9-inch round pans or line the pans with parchment paper or use a no-stick flour cooking spray
3. Combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl; set aside
4. Beat the brown sugar and butter in a large bowl until light and fluffy.
5. Beat in eggs and vanilla
6. Add flour mixture alternately with milk, beating after each addition until just combined
7. Divide dough into seven portions of about ¾ cup each.
8. With floured hands, pat dough into prepared pans.
9. Bake about 10 minutes or until golden crust forms.
10. Remove from pan and place on a wire rack

Ingredients for the dried apple filling:

5 cups water
1 pound dried apples
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 to 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ to 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg or all spice
¼ to ½ teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt

Instructions for Assembling the Cake:

1. Place one cake layer on a large, flat plate or cake plate.
2. Smooth an even amount of hot dried apple filling on top of the one cake layer.
3. Add the second cake layer onto the dried apple filling.
4. Put the dried apple filling on top of the second layer.
5. Repeat until all seven layers are stacked one on top another BUT do not put the apple filling on the top layer.
6. Cover the cake and place in the refrigerator (or cool place) for 24 to 48 hours.

GRANNY’S BLACKBERRY JAM CAKE

For the cake:

2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter

2 cups sugar

5 large eggs, beaten

3 cups plus 1 tablespoon sifted all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons allspice

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup buttermilk

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 cup chopped raisins or dates

1 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts)

1 cup seedless blackberry jam

For the icing

3 cups light brown sugar

1 cup evaporated milk

1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter

 PREPARATION

Make the cake:

In a large bowl with an electric mixer cream together the butter and the sugar until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the eggs and combine the mixture well. Into a bowl sift together 3 cups of the flour, the allspice, the cloves, the cinnamon, and the salt.

In another bowl combine the buttermilk and the baking soda. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in batches alternately with the buttermilk mixture, beating well after each addition. In a bowl, toss together the raisins, the nuts, and the remaining 1 tablespoon flour and stir the mixture into the batter with the jam, stirring until the mixture is combined well.

Line the bottoms of 2 buttered 9-inch cake pans with wax paper and butter the paper. Pour the batter into the pans and bake the layers in the middle of a preheated 325°F. oven for 40 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Let the layers cool in the pans on a rack for 15 minutes, invert them onto the rack, and let the layers cool completely.

Make the icing:

In a saucepan combine the brown sugar, the evaporated milk, and the butter, cook the mixture over moderately low heat, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved, and cook it, undisturbed, washing down any sugar crystals clinging to the side of the pan with a brush dipped in cold water, until it registers 238°F. on a candy thermometer. Transfer the mixture to a bowl and beat it until it is of spreading consistency. If the icing gets too hard to spread, dip the icing spatula in hot water.

Transfer one of the layers, bottom up, to a cake plate, frost the top with the icing, and top it with the remaining layer, bottom down. Frost the top and sides with the icing.

MOM’S MARSHMALLOW CREAM FUDGE