Of Grandmothers & Christmas Cookies

I know we all have our treasured family Christmas cookie recipes. Some of you might have them on neatly filed recipe cards or if you're an overachiever, they might be laminated or on an iPad. Then there's the rest of us. Most of mine are scribbled on paper, creased and dog-eared, with greasy butter stains and chocolate blotches. I have one special recipe that my grandmother mailed to me - she scribbled extra instructions on the back of the envelope. It's amazing how just reading over a recipe can bring so many fond memories flooding back!

Take my Granny - she of the scribbled envelope. She was a baker extraordinaire. She made scores of different cookies, all beautifully done and delicious. My favorite was the recipe that came in the envelope: her paper-thin sugar cookies, cut out with her large collection of cookie cutters. On some of them she would place tiny silver dragees as decoration. Those cookies were almost as thin as parchment paper. I am not exaggerating. How she rolled them that thin and cut them out so precisely I'll never know. Okay, I lied - I do know. She told me how: by keeping everything chilled and being patient when rolling & cutting - but I cannot recreate her magic. I tried it, but I gave up on it after one session with paper thin gooey dough ripping in pieces and sticking to everything but where it was supposed to stick. I kept the dough chilled, I swear! I didn't want to waste all that dough, so I baked them anyway. The resulting cookies were an assortment of strange distorted blobs, pitiful half-stars, decapitated snowmen, reindeer torsos, and so on... Sigh.
 
 Granny was vigilant and quite rigid with her 'cookie rules'. No grabbing any from the kitchen stash ( where some were always kept year-round) without asking. Not more than ONE cookie at a time. NO picking out raisins - that was cookie defacement. If you didn't like raisins ( I didn't and I still don't ) then too bad. You choked 'em down or you didn't have the cookie. NEVER any cookie before lunch or dinner. And then there was her cookie storage method. All the cookies were packed in tins and stacked in the unheated spare bedroom upstairs. Woe to the kid who tried to sneak up there for a pre-Christmas taste!
One time I committed the Ultimate Cookie Offense: I snuck upstairs to the forbidden room. I had an excuse; it was my aunt's idea. Can you blame a 10 year old? How could I resist my aunt's tempting whispers of this illicit adventure? It was a thrilling experience. We creaked the door open, my eyes like saucers at the sight of all those colorful cookie tins. It was cold in there. I grabbed some random cookies (but none with raisins - I was in a hurry but I could spot raisins in a flash from years of expertly avoiding them), gobbled them down, and then we snuck back down before we were busted. And amazingly, we got away with it. I think Granny was busy cooking dinner or something, the clanking of pans drowning out the sounds of our footsteps up & down the squeaky old staircase. I can't remember if I ever told her that story; I tend to think I kept it secret all those long years since. For all that and despite her strict cookie protocols, Granny was a wonderful, loving grandmother, and even if I can't make her cookies, I can hold that old envelope and smile.

 

 

 

                          Some of my grandmothers vintage cookie tins

Then there was Gramma. My copies of her recipes are scribbled on paper, as I copied them from the originals. They're well worn and stained. There are two of them: Sand Tarts and Gramma's Chocolate Cookies. Her cookies were always so small, neat and uniform that they're legendary in our family. She tended towards drop cookies, rather than cut-outs. But she had an uncanny knack for making each spooned-off drop or rolled dough ball exactly the same size. And small. They almost looked machine made. Every year, I put on my holiday music playlist and bake those cookies. I make a heroic effort to recreate Gramma's tidy little circles. Most of the time, my version comes out over sized, lumpy, and uneven. I redouble my efforts on the next batch, going ever so sloowly and carefully. I have been successful some of the time and when I am, I phone my mother to triumphantly announce "I DID IT!!" Then we laugh and reminisce about Gramma and her quiet, patient baking. Sometimes as I'm baking the cookies and singing Christmas songs, I actually get all choked up. But that's a good thing, right? It's a testament to the close and loving relationship I had with my grandmothers. When I see my tins full of neat little circular cookies - just like Gramma's! - I smile. Cookies and memories - a few more of my favorite little things in life!

So here's the recipe for my Gramma's Sand Tarts. They're a crispy little butter cookie. The thinner they are, the better - for maximum crispiness.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
 

Sand Tarts

(makes 4-5 doz.)

2 C sifted flour
½ C butter, softened to room temperature
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 C Sugar
1 egg, well beaten

Topping ingredients:

1 TBSP sugar
¼ tsp cinnamon

Sift flour once & measure again. Add baking powder & sift again. Add to mixer bowl. Add sugar gradually. Cream together until light & fluffy. Add egg & flour, blend. Turn out of bowl, wrap, and chill thoroughly in refrigerator. (you can freeze the dough at this point if you want to bake later on)

 Once chilled, roll into small uniform balls (maybe the size of a large grape). Lay balls on parchment-lined baking sheet. Flatten balls using a piece of parchment under a juice glass to press. The dough will stick, hence the parchment paper under the juice glass. I press down the glass and then twist it back & forth. It helps to keep the dough chilled.

Bake at 375 degrees for 7-8 minutes or until golden.

Sprinkle on topping while hot.

 

Merry Christmas!

Favorite Things: Christmas Edition

 
It doesn't take much to please me. I get so many little thrills from Christmas and its traditions! I get a huge kick out of opening those storage boxes and pulling out my holiday decor. Some things are old, some are newer, but they all bring a grin to my face. One of these is a large jingle bell. I tied a red ribbon onto it to turn it into the sleigh bell from the film "The Polar Express". The movie rings true (no pun intended) for me, as a kid who desperately wanted to keep believing in Santa Claus, even as all the evidence pointed against such a thing. Here's a short clip from the movie: The sleigh bell from the Polar Express .  I love that movie! It's precisely how I always imagined a North Pole visit should be. I mean, c'mon - a hot chocolate-filled train pulls up at your house?? I don't care if the conductor is kind of creepy - count me in!  So I like having the bell sitting there as a reminder to think like a kid and not be too serious.

 



I like to think that I can STILL hear it ring!

Then there are my bottle brush animals. They're another newer addition to my holiday decor. I just love 'em! The photo doesn't quite capture their glittery coating - but they do sparkle in the sunshine. They have a slight problem with proportion; that is one gargantuan owl. Although, now that I think about it, wouldn't it be cool if there were owls the size of bears? Hmm... then again, maybe not. The nighttime hooting alone would destroy life as we know it! But then, if the owl was in proportion to the other two animals, it would be a ridiculous thimble-sized thing sitting there... Anyway, every time I walk past their display I smile. The little things, you know!

 

 The sparkly menagerie

I also have a Christmas village of sorts. It's rather lame as such things go, but I like it. It is a conglomeration of some newer things and some really old things. I got a few of the bottle brush trees from my aunt, a few more from my mother, and the rest at yard sales. Some were in my grandparents under-tree display - a few of those are plastic and chalkware. I have an old dime bank in the shape of a house and a tiny horse-drawn wagon that is a true antique. My grandmother gave that to me and told me it was her aunt's. On the other side of my tableau are two Steiff hedgehogs lurking among the trees. Like the bottle brush animals above, they are way out of proportion to the rest of the scenery. I like to say that they are the monster hedgehogs emerging from the deep forest to raid the village. Then, in the middle, are the remains of a fort that my nephew carefully made and gave me as a Christmas gift a few years back. It was quite impressive when new but has since fallen apart, so until I get around to re-gluing it, it's set up in a ramshackle fashion: a rickety stockade fence and 3 tiny cabins. I've dubbed it Fort Decrepit. It seems doubtful that this fortification will be able to hold off the onslaught of the giant mutant hedgehogs - maybe the huge invisible army that's hidden behind the fence will rout the beasts. This little scene cracks me up - in fact I often let out an amused "HAH!" when I look at it.

The whole tableau - Fort Decrepit is in the center

   The tiny village.
The little wagon driver is frantically waving to warn the village of....

   The giant mutant hedgehogs on the prowl!

I'm sure a lot of us have Christmas memories of train sets under the tree. We had that, too - at first it was actually under the tree, but as my dad added on to his train set-up, he built a large L-shaped platform for the display. At that point, the whole thing had to be moved to the basement playroom. My brother now has my dad's trains and sets them up during the holidays, so although I don't actually have the trains here at my house, I still get to enjoy them & decided to include them here. I suppose it wouldn't be surprising to anyone that knows me that it's not so much the trains that amuse me, but the props and scenery. My favorite part of the display is the box full of plastic people labeled "Citizens". I mean, what do you call a box of plastic people anyway? They aren't plastic army men or dinosaurs; they're random people - a milkman, a mailman, gentlemen with suits and hats, ladies with shopping bags, a paper boy... you could call them 'townspeople' I suppose. But really, 'citizens' does describe them the best. It's too funny. It might as well be labeled 'Acme Citizens'.
 We used to place them in ludicrous spots on the display, causing our easily perturbed dad to yell at us - "Get those damn people off of there they're going to fall on the tracks and derail the train do you know how much that train cost all right that's IT you are forbidden to touch ANYthing!!" Ha! The citizens are still around ( Dad's still around, too, but now he has no say in the train operations; he can only watch and shake his head in dismay) and they still get messed around with. You have no idea how much mileage we can get out of a hobo camp... Ah, good times!


Of course, my Christmas decorations aren't all just sources of amusement from my overactive imagination. There are plenty of sentimental things, vintage things from my grandparents that practically shout "Granny's house!!", things that family and friends have given me, things that just sit there looking pretty - just the small things that make me smile. Isn't that what it's all about anyway? :)

Venison - the other red meat

Today is Monday, November 26 - the first day of rifle season for white-tailed deer here in Pennsylvania. Mr. Curious ( my husband) has just left on his annual quest. He doesn't go far; just across the road, really. He doesn't need to go far, since our neighborhood is lousy with deer. Deer hunting is a big deal here; schools even give kids the opening day off to go hunting. A word of caution: If you, like me, enjoy walking outdoors - be sure to wear some bright orange clothing during this time of year! The various deer seasons here in PA stretch from now until Jan. 26. If you're interested, here is the PA Game Commission page on seasons and bag limits.

 

                                                    Ghostly herd behind our house

 

Mr. Curious is not a trophy hunter. He enjoys being outdoors, sitting quietly and observing nature. He's always telling me stories of this bird or that fox that he saw while sitting still, and how much I would've enjoyed seeing it. He enjoys the tradition of it, too, having hunted since childhood with his dad and brothers. And of course, the free meat is huge plus. There's no need to be squeamish or anti-hunting, people! The deer herds no longer have any natural predators (other than speeding cars) and the herds are managed for hunting. The idea is to keep the populations stable so that starvation and disease don't become a problem. As it is, many, many deer will starve and succumb to diseases, despite all the efforts put forth on their behalf.


So, I'm not squeamish about all of this and in fact I enjoy eating venison. We have most of our deer meat ground up into burger meat. Not that I make burgers with it - I use it in place of ground beef in recipes that call for that ingredient. I can't tell any difference. We don't have any pork fat ground into it as some people do. As a result, our ground venison is lean, lean, lean - a low cholesterol dieters dream. Plus, you can't do any better when it comes to all the recent buzzwords: Local, all natural, grass-fed, antibiotic and chemical free. Even if you don't hunt, perhaps you know of a hunter who doesn't use the meat and you could get a hold of a 'side of deer' in that way. Be adventurous. Give it a try!


 Another favorite cut of venison is the back straps - the tenderloins. Oh, my, they are delicious. Here's my go-to recipe for the straps:

VENISON TENDERLOIN BITES

Ingredients:

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil 3 cloves garlic, minced 1 1/2 cups Italian dry bread crumbs 1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1 pound venison tenderloin, cut into 1 inch cubes salt and pepper to taste 5 cups arugula 1 lemon, cut into quarters

Directions:

1.	Preheat the oven's broiler and set the oven rack at about 6 inches from the heat source. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil.
2.	Warm the olive oil and garlic in a small saucepan over low heat for 5 minutes to infuse the flavor of the garlic into the olive oil. Place the bread crumbs into a mixing bowl, and pour the oil mixture over top. Stir the parsley, and Parmesan cheese into the bread crumb mixture until evenly blended. Press the venison cubes into the bread crumb mixture to coat, and place onto the prepared baking sheet. Make sure the venison pieces are not touching.
3.	Broil in the oven until the bread crumbs are golden, and the venison has turned from red to pink in the center, or to your desired degree of doneness, about 6 minutes. Turn the cubes occasionally as they cook.
4.	Divide the arugula onto 4 dinner plates, and top with the broiled venison. Squeeze a quarter of a lemon over each plate to serve. Enjoy!

Bluebirds through the window

I've been observing bluebirds out my window. They arrive in small flocks of 6 - 10. They flutter about the yard, trying out different perches, nabbing a wayward insect or two, and then they begin to land on the nest boxes. It's fun to watch them as they check out the boxes. I can easily anthropomorphise their behavior as they flick their wings and chatter to each other: "What do ya think? I dunno, let me go in...Please do! After you..Thank you,Yes, okay, this one's not bad.." and so on. In fact, I can imagine them chatting back and forth in the manner of those polite gophers from the old Looney Tunes cartoons. But I digress.
In the winter months, bluebirds form small flocks and travel about foraging together. They will use empty nest boxes as a communal roost at night when the temperatures really plunge - as they tend to do during our long, dark Pennsylvania winters. I like to think of these as 'our' birds, although there's no way to know for sure if they are, in fact, birds fledged from our nest boxes.

Looks like they're trying to reach a consensus.

 

Wing-flicking - "Over here, this one looks great!"

Some background info would be helpful.We put up the nest boxes years ago, as we live in ideal bluebird habitat: open fields bordered by woodlots. We've hosted nesting bluebirds every year since. They always raise two, sometimes three, broods. We love 'our' bluebirds! They are very personable - as birds go - and beneficial to have around the yard since they feed on insects, caterpillars, and the like.

Our first two nest boxes were mounted on a fence post and a tree. Both are terrible ideas. It's amazing how many different creatures can and will climb in order to reach a tasty meal of eggs or nestlings.The final straw came when a squirrel deftly reached into the tree-mounted box, pulled out the nestlings one by one, and devoured them. Murdering squirrels?? Waaah! Enter our current predator-proof mounts.The boxes are on metal poles with a homemade predator guard below.
 Resourceful humans - 1
 Pesky squirrels, cats, raccoons, snakes, and other assorted climbing critters - 0

If you plan to host bluebirds, do yourself a favor and install the boxes on a metal pole with a guard underneath. Here are plans for a stovepipe baffle. That website, Sialis.org, is an excellent and complete resource on being a landlord to bluebirds and other native cavity nesting birds. I might mention that I didn't touch on the subject of English Sparrows here - that is a subject for another day when I'm in more of a ranting mood. Suffice it to say that the predator baffles don't help with that problem. And problem it is, with a capital P which rhymes with G and that stands for Gun.... Stop right there! Before you write me off as a yee-hawin' nut - hear me out. I am not a shoeless, gun-totin' old Ma with a chaw in m' lip - if you peruse the Sialis website, you'll see where I'm coming from and what a dire threat the sparrows pose to Bluebirds.

Meanwhile, off I go to waste some more time, staring out the window at the cute antics of MY bluebirds!