They were words whispered in the early hours after a mama died, the very thing a beloved aunt thought to wrap around the heartache of a little girl now left alone. They were etched onto a little card and tucked into the trousseau of a young bride. They are the sole relic of a long-lost grandmother, a tattered sheaf of paper the only remnant left to unspool even a passage of an already fading story.
They are kitchen recantations, they are family scripture. They tell us how to cook. They tell us how to carry on. Ink scratchings on paper or just plain pressed into our hearts, they are the torches we pass from one generation to the next, reminding us what matters, rekindling the past before it’s extinguished, lighting the way for what’s to come.
They are, simply, recipes. Heirloom recipes, to be precise. Not too many weeks ago, Good Eating put out the call: Send us your tested, your tried and your true, we beseeched.
And you answered. Oh, my, did you answer. A full 248 of you sent in way more than that. And we’re not just talking numbers (although the actual number of recipes swelled to somewhere deep in the 500s).
You sent heart. You sent soul. You sent antique-to-the-point-of-crumbling pages from the family archives. You sent whole cookbooks, typed and bound and chock-full of family pictures. You sent diagrams of just how to roll the Easter lily hors d’oeuvres. And just in case we didn’t get it, you sketched little drawings of the antique wooden masher your Grandma Marr used to make her better than-anyone’s applesauce.
And, more poignantly than any so-called expert explainer of the world in which we live, you told us just what it is about recipes that has us foraging through attics, tearing through boxes in the basement, in search of that ever-elusive but oh-so-delicious piece of our past.
In your half cups of this, heaping tablespoons of that, you told us the story of a nation of immigrants, and, certainly, the polyglot city that is Chicago.
This is what we now know of the heirlooms from our kitchens:
They reside, often, in banged-up little boxes on our shelves. Hinges loose. Lids rusty, or lost. They are the repository for the plainsong poetry of our lives. They tell us who we are, whence we come. They tell us how we feed the ones we love.
They are yellowed. They are torn. They are, quite often, no more than scribbled lists of ingredients, offering no inkling of how to get from cupboard to cake stand, recorded in a time when kitchen fundamentals were assumed, as there was no luxury of otherwise.
Sometimes, though, they go on for pages, complete with diagrams or admonitions (“be careful to avoid drafts or any vibrations”).
They are the cornerstone of family keeping, the 3-by-5 stitches that hold together the great tapestry that is generation after generation of a single family line.
We are connected, we tell ourselves, because each one of us starts salivating at the mere mention of, say, Grandma Lucille’s 3-4-5 stew.
And each one of us in a family, no matter how far we’ve been flung, conjures a slide show of shared images at the first whiff from the stove.
We cook to remember, we cook to resurrect.
Recipes bring smiles
And as often as they might make you brush away a tear, these recipes might also make you laugh: The German gru ne krapfen (loosely translated as “green scramble”), for instance, came with the full disclosure that “we actually consumed this meatless dish as penance on Good Friday,” and noted that it would serve eight adults murmuring, “Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.”
Or, consider Esther’s ceiling cake that got its name “when part of the kitchen ceiling fell on the cake as it was cooling,” and has been so named for 80 years, though Mildred Libman, of Northbrook, laments, “unfortunately I am the only one left who remembers the event.”
Blueberry boy bait, so named for obvious reasons, writes 90-year-old Mae Olszewski, of Calumet City, must have done the trick, for she mentions that she got it in 1935, shortly before she married.
And let us not pass over that after-dinner morsel, “better than sex cake,” made by a rabbi’s mother, no less.
In writing of her Great-grandma Randall’s ginger cookies, Julie Vassilatos, of Chicago’s Hyde Park, illuminates far more than century-old sweets:
“And of course, recipes tell stories,” she begins. “Part of the story of this small recipe is the ‘settling’ of the American West in the middle and late parts of the 19th Century, when individuals and families left the known and went into the unknown. Small cultural artifacts such as recipes were among the few concrete possessions that such travelers carried with them–a little thing that did the heavy work of providing a ballast, a tether, a connection to a family’s known and settled past, old friends and family left behind, brick houses with real kitchens.
“There are, of course, few places left in this country where a recipe needs to do all that work. But old recipes connect us to the past still, and to the future, as long as there’s someone out there following the directions and sharing the delectable results.”
Indeed.
Around the world
Take a deep breath. Try this for a taste of Chicago:
There came recipes for Greek melamocrona (a honey-dipped cookie), Norwegian lefse (the lesson for these paper-thin pancakes imparted one sultry August afternoon over hot grills in an Iowa basement), Danish pancake balls, Scottish rice pudding with apples, Irish potato salad with Grandma Carrie’s secret ingredient of a “good splash of sweet pickle juice,” Icelandic matrimonial cake (passed down from an 1890s homesteader who used one pound pure, dried apricots), Bohemian bread dumplings (“not the sissy fluffy type, but good old-fashioned Bohemian sinkers,” writes the daughter whose dad insists on bringing along his favorite mixing bowl, spoon and pot for boiling), Romanian butter cookies (made with eight hard-boiled yolks), Russian kazel (a matzoh-egg-and-fried-onion mound not to be missed at Passover), Czech svickova (a pickled beef), Slovenian strukle (a ravioli-like dumpling), Polish paczkis (doughnuts), Ukrainian meatloaf, and Lithuanian pierogi (dumplings).
From decidedly American roots came Cherokee persimmon cookies, Grandmama’s rolls (touted “best dinner rolls in the world;” they oughta be, they’re bursting with one stick butter and one cup melted butter, left to rise not once but twice) and a plain old green Jell-O mold.
Even the handwriting, from the taut cursive of long, long ago, to the stubborn old typewriter ribbons of a certain age to the crisp, uniform e-mail of the new millennium, tells a story. So, too, do reminiscences of watching Francois Pope cook away on black-and-white TVs, listening to Don McNeill recite recipes on the radio.
Something called “stir up,” or chopped fried dough, dates to the days of covered wagons. And Grandma Lynch’s applesauce cake was first sent to three brothers in Vietnam, and just recently, wrapped tight and shipped to a nephew in Iraq.
It isn’t hard to hear the turning of history’s pages in a recipe for buttermilk sugar cookies that recalled a great aunt going to the well, where a bucket on a long rope would bring up ice-cold water to make lemonade. Or how the first taste of an everyday cake called lightning cake brought to mind the home-churned butter, eggs straight from the henhouse, and milk from the cow, and how, once upon a time, they tested for doneness with the clean end of a broom straw.
Another woman writes of her grandmother’s head cheese, and how, as if yesterday, she can still see the scene in the summer kitchen where her dad and uncle “scraped down the pigs before cutting up the meat.” Someone else, thankfully, writes simply of ice-cold bottles of Coca-Cola, and cheese straws waiting in Grandma’s pantry.
Catching the magic
As is often the plight of cooks collecting recipes from the past, there are tales aplenty of trying mightily to catch the elusive magic before it slips away, of sneaking into a kitchen to peer over the shoulder of a cook jealously guarding her Bavarian sauerkraut casserole recipe. And time after time, tales of standing beside a bubbe, or a ya-ya, or a nana who has forever cooked by feel, and the novice, armed with measuring cups, spoons, pad and paper, straining valiantly to eke out some semblance of a written record.
One woman went so far as to count the number of whacks (24) against the counter, as her grandmother worked the dough that would become the knishes like none she’s tasted since. The dough, she writes, was so thin, “you could read through it,” a tough standard set by another generation from another time.
The dishes our ancestors cooked might not always sound so yummy. Try these: pork cake and suet pudding, lye soap and sauerkraut cream pie. Or, perhaps, something called funeral slaw for its propensity for showing up at buffets after burials.
How about horseradish pickles, which won the “most unusual pickle” contest sponsored by the Dayton (Ohio) Daily News, and were so favored among townsfolk that a local dentist used to barter one teeth cleaning per jar of the sinus-clearing cukes.
And, lordy, the things they put in these heirloom recipes might not have you running for the pantry. Yum yum drops must be, because they call for “4 to 5 cups Crisco.” And 21 onion dressing lets you in on the secret weapon (“wear goggles to keep from crying,” as you slice the 21 stinkers) while the recipe for dandelion wine admonishes, “use only fresh blossoms.” By all means.
And though you might not hunger for every last morsel, it’s worth keeping in mind that in some cases no less than the fate of a family rested on these sketchy kitchen jottings. There is the potato soup that sustained one great-great grandma on her three-month voyage from Czechoslovakia to America back before the Civil War.
And then there is Geneva fluff, a Swedish custardy concoction that one man loved so much, he promised he would marry the cook if she could master the fluff. She did, and he did, and they said, “I do,” back in 1987. No word on whether fluff was at the wedding.
It is, all said, no transitory thing to put down on paper the things that you do in your kitchen. Long after you’re gone, there will be your recipe. Writes Marian Loehndorf of Cary, who sent in her mother’s recipe for good ol’ chocolate cookies with chocolate frosting: “Your recipes and your handwriting outlast you.”
Simple jottings. Basic steps. A story. To be continued.
Cheese straws
Preparation time: 25 minutes
Cooking time: 12 minutes
Yield: 3 1/2 dozen
– Susan Albert of Forest Lake wrote: “This recipe is my grandmother’s, who lived her whole life in Georgia. When I visited her, she would always have a large glass jar of cheese straws in her pantry and put them out with ice cold bottles of Coca-Cola or iced tea.” We’ve adapted her recipe.
1 pound sharp Cheddar cheese, finely grated
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter, softened
1 1/2 cups flour, sifted, plus more if needed
1/2 teaspoon each: ground red pepper, salt
1. Mix together cheese and butter with hands in a large bowl. Mix in 11/2 cups of the flour, red pepper and salt until the dough is soft but not crumbly. (Add up to 1/2 cup more flour if needed.)
2. Heat oven to 325 degrees. Fit a cookie press with a ribbon or star disk; fill the press with dough. Press to make long ribbon-like pieces 1 inch apart down the length of a greased baking sheet.
3. Bake strips until edges begin to brown, about 12-15 minutes; remove from oven. Cut ribbons or straws into 2- to 3-inch pieces with a knife or pizza cutter while still warm. Leave on baking sheet; cool on wire rack, about 10 minutes. Store in an airtight container.
Note: If you don’t have a cookie press, refrigerate dough 30 minutes; place on a large, floured board. Roll dough to 1/4-inch thickness. Make ridges along dough with the tines of a fork. Cut into 1-inch strips; place strips on greased baking pan. Follow baking instruction above.
Nutrition information per serving:
78 calories, 65% of calories from fat, 6 g fat, 3 g saturated fat, 17 mg cholesterol, 4 g carbohydrates, 3 g protein, 113 mg sodium, 0.1 g fiber
Grandma Randall’s ginger cookies
Preparation time: 25 minutes
Cooking time: 10 minutes per batch
Cooling time: 20 minutes
Yield: 6 dozen cookies
– Described by a taster as “just like my grandma’s,” this soft ginger cookie is adapted from a recipe sent by Julie Vassilatos, who says it is more than 100 years old and from her great-grandmother. “Old recipes connect us to the past still, and to the future, as long as there’s someone out there following the directions and sharing the delectable results,” she wrote.
5 cups flour
1 tablespoon cocoa powder
2 teaspoons each: ground ginger, baking powder, baking soda
1/2 teaspoon each: ground cinnamon, ground nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon dried cloves
1 cup each: molasses, vegetable shortening, granulated sugar
3 eggs
1 cup each: sour cream, confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Sift flour, cocoa powder, ginger, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves into a large bowl. Beat molasses, shortening and sugar in bowl of an electric mixer on medium speed until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition.
2. Add 1/3 of the flour mixture and 1/3 cup of the sour cream; beat just to combine. Repeat two more times until all flour mixture and sour cream are used. Do not overbeat.
3. Drop dough by tablespoons on greased baking sheets 1 inch apart. Press each cookie with bottom of a floured baking powder can to flatten. Bake until lightly brown around the edges, 10-12 minutes. Remove from rack; cool on wire rack 20 minutes.
4. Meanwhile, whisk together confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice until smooth in small bowl. Spread over cooled cookies.
Nutrition information per serving:
65 calories, 48% of calories from fat, 4 g fat, 1 g saturated fat, 8 mg cholesterol, 8 g carbohydrates, 0.4 g protein, 55 mg sodium, 0.05 g fiber
Slovenian filled dumplings (Strukle)
Preparation time: 1 hour, 15 minutes
Cooking time: 4 minutes per batch
Yield: 54 pieces
– “In our family, a meal with strukle is more than just a meal. It is an event to be planned and prepared for and enjoyed with memories of family gatherings,” wrote Carol Klobucher. This ravioli-like dish is from her husband’s mother.
Filling:
1 large baking potato
1 tablespoon butter, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup cottage cheese
2 tablespoons bread crumbs, if needed
Dumplings:
2 cups flour
2 eggs
2 tablespoons melted butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup grated sharp Cheddar cheese, optional
1. For filling, pierce the potato with a fork several times. Cook in a microwave oven on high power until fork-tender, about 10 minutes. Cut in half; scoop out potato into a medium bowl. Add butter and salt; mash. Stir in cottage cheese. Stir until the mixture is like soft cookie dough, adding bread crumbs if needed; set aside.
2. For dumplings, place flour in a medium bowl; make a well. Add eggs, 1 tablespoon of the melted butter and salt. Add just enough water (up to 3/4 cup) to make a soft dough. Knead on lightly floured surface until blisters appear on the dough, about 20 minutes.
3. Roll dough out on floured surface to thickness of noodle dough, about 1/8-inch thick. Cut into 2-inch squares. Stretch each square slightly with your hands. Place 1/2 teaspoon of the filling on each square; fold each in half to make a triangle. Pinch sides completely to seal.
4. Heat a large saucepan of salted water to a boil. Add dumplings. Cook until dumplings rise to the top of the pot, about 10 minutes. Drain; place in large bowl. Pour remaining 1 tablespoon of the melted butter over dumplings. Serve plain or topped with grated cheese if desired.
Nutrition information per serving:
30 calories, 27% of calories from fat, 1 g fat, 0.4 g saturated fat, 10 mg cholesterol, 4 g carbohydrates, 1 g protein, 78 mg sodium, 0.2 g fiber
More culinary treasures
So many dishes! So little space!
Here are a few more examples of the wonderful recipes we received, together with the memories they evoked for the readers who submitted them.
Bea’s Bavarian sauerkraut casserole
Preparation time: 20 minutes
Cooking time: 1 hour, 35 minutes
Yield: 12 servings
Dexter Stockdreher of Elmwood Park wrote: “My mother had been making this often-requested dish for over 30 years. She originally had gotten it from an old Polish/Ukrainian aunt who naturally refused to give out the recipe.” His mother persevered–but then refused to share it with him! (He persevered too.) Note: The amount of butter can be reduced if you wish to trim fat grams.
1 package (16 ounces) egg noodles
2 sticks (1 cup) butter
1 large white onion, diced
1/3 cup each: packed brown sugar, white vinegar
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon each: salt, garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 cans (14 ounces) regular sauerkraut
1 can (14 ounces) Bavarian-style or regular sauerkraut
1 can (8 ounces) mushroom pieces
1/4 cup each: bread crumbs, grated Parmesan cheese
1. Cook noodles according to package instructions. Drain; set aside.
2. Meanwhile, melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion, brown sugar, vinegar, oregano, salt, garlic powder and pepper; cook until onion is soft, about 4 minutes.
3. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Combine sauerkraut, mushrooms, noodles and onion mixture in a large bowl; transfer to a 13-by-9-inch greased pan. Top casserole with bread crumbs and cheese. Cover with foil. Bake 1 hour. Uncover; bake until golden and bubbly, about 15 minutes. Serve hot.
Nutrition information per serving:
324 calories, 47% of calories from fat, 17 g fat, 8 g saturated fat, 72 mg cholesterol, 37 g carbohydrates, 7 g protein, 912 mg sodium, 4 g fiber
Geneva fluff
Preparation time: 35 minutes
Cooking time: 40 minutes
Chilling time: 9 hours
Yield: 10 servings
Beverly Swanson of Gurnee sent in this rich, sweet pie. “My husband [Roy] … loved this dessert so much that he said if I could make it he would marry me. I did make this treat for him and he did take me to Maui and marry me on that beautiful island in 1987.” The recipe came from Roy’s Aunt Jenny Girocco, who was born in Nyhammar, Sweden, and came to America in 1919.
1 envelope (2 teaspoons) powdered gelatin
1 1/4 cups milk
2 cups sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 pint whipping cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 prepared graham cracker crust
1/4 cup graham cracker crumbs, optional
1. Sprinkle gelatin over 1/4 cup of the milk; set aside. Meanwhile, combine remaining 1 cup of the milk and sugar in medium saucepan over medium heat; cook, stirring, until simmering, about 20 minutes.
2. Whisk together 1/2 cup of the hot milk mixture with egg in a small bowl; stir egg mixture into milk mixture. Cook, stirring, until it comes to a boil, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in gelatin. Pour mixture into a large bowl. Refrigerate, stirring occasionally, 1 hour.
3. Whip cream in bowl of an electric mixer on medium speed until stiff peaks form, about 5 minutes. Fold cream into custard in 3 additions. Fold in vanilla extract. Pour filling into prepared crust; sprinkle with graham cracker crumbs. Chill until completely set, at least 8 hours.
Nutrition information per serving:
460 calories, 47% of calories from fat, 24 g fat, 13 g saturated fat, 89 mg cholesterol, 58 g carbohydrates, 4 g protein, 176 mg sodium, 0.4 g fiber
Scottish rice pudding with stewed apples
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cooking time: 2 hours
Chilling time: 3 hours
Yield: 6 servings
Mary Ellen Silverstein of Chicago wrote that this was a family favorite from her Scottish-born mother, Sarah: “It is our comfort food and brings back fond memories of Sarah cooking in the kitchen and then placing the hot pudding bowl on the back porch to cool.”
Rice pudding:
1/2 cup uncooked rice
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon butter
2 cups milk
Apples:
2 medium Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, diced
1/4 cup sugar
1. Place the rice in a medium saucepan; add cold water to cover. Stir; drain. Add 1 cup fresh water. Heat over medium heat to simmer. Cover; cook until rice absorbs the water, about 10 minutes.
2. Stir in sugar and butter; slowly stir in milk. Transfer to the top of a double boiler fitted over simmering water. Cook, stirring every 30 minutes, until milk is absorbed, about 1 hour, 50 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, place apples in medium saucepan; add water to just cover. Heat to a boil; reduce heat to simmer. Cook until apples are softened and water has almost evaporated, about 15 minutes. Stir in sugar; cook, stirring, until sugar melts and glazes apples. Remove from heat; set aside.
4. Stir apples into pudding; transfer to a large bowl or six dessert bowls. Refrigerate at least 3 hours before serving.
Nutrition information per serving:
172 calories, 18% of calories from fat, 3 g fat, 2 g saturated fat, 11 mg cholesterol, 33 g carbohydrates, 3 g protein, 55 mg sodium, 1 g fiber
Dinner rolls
Preparation time: 40 minutes
Rising time: 2 hours
Cooking time: 25 minutes
Yield: 18 rolls
Deborah M. Washington of Chicago sent this recipe for dinner rolls: “This recipe was made by my grandmother Lois Washington and her sister Ada Lewis.” Now deceased, they “made the best dinner rolls in the world,” she wrote.
1 package (1/4 ounce) active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1 cup lukewarm milk
1/2 cup sugar
2 sticks (1 cup) butter, 1 softened, 1 melted
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon salt
5 cups flour
1. Dissolve yeast into the warm water in a measuring cup or small bowl; set aside.
2. Pour milk in a large bowl; stir in sugar until it dissolves. Stir in the stick of softened butter, beaten eggs, salt and yeast mixture. Stir in flour, stirring until all the flour is mixed in. Cover bowl with tea towel or plastic wrap; set aside in warm area until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.
3. Transfer dough to lightly floured surface, sprinkling with additional flour as needed to roll out dough. Roll out to 1/4-inch thickness with rolling pin. Cut circles with a 2 1/2-inch round cookie cutter; brush with some of the melted butter. For Parker House rolls, fold each circle halfway over;place seam side down on greased baking pan. Or lay circles flat on greased baking pan for simple rolls. Cover; place in warm area until nearly doubled in volume, about 1 hour.
4. Heat oven to 300 degrees. Bake rolls until golden, 25-30 minutes. Remove from oven; brush with remaining butter. Serve hot.
Nutrition information per roll:
257 calories, 40% of calories from fat, 11 g fat, 6 g saturated fat, 63 mg cholesterol, 33 g carbohydrates, 5 g protein, 220 mg sodium, 1 g fiber
Icelandic matrimonial cake
Preparation time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 1 hour, 30 minutes
Cooling time: 1 hour
Yield: 24 bars
Although it’s called a cake, this recipe really makes a pan of delicious apricot bars. It was originally published in 1929 by the Ladies Aid of the First Lutheran Church in Winnepeg. It was contributed by Loretta Rose, Glenview.
Filling:
2 cups water
1 pound dried apricots, diced
1 cup packed brown sugar
Crust:
1 1/4 cups each: flour, quick-cooking oatmeal
1 1/2 sticks (3/4 cup) butter
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1. For the filling, heat water, apricots and brown sugar to a boil in a medium saucepan over medium-highheat until apricots are soft and mushy, about 1 hour. Set aside to cool.
2. Heat oven to 350 degrees. For crust, mix together flour, oatmeal, butter, brown sugar and salt in a medium bowl; spread half of the mixture in a 13-by-9-inch greased baking pan. Press mixture down firmly with hands or the back of a spoon.
3. Spread filling over crust; spread remaining flour-oatmeal mixture over filling. Bake until golden, about 35 minutes. Cool completely on wire rack, about 1 hour. Cut into 1-inch squares.
Nutrition information per serving:
192 calories, 28% of calories from fat, 6 g fat, 3 g saturated fat, 15 mg cholesterol, 33 g carbohydrates, 2 g protein, 59 mg sodium, 2 g fiber
Chocolate cookies
Preparation time: 20 minutes
Cooking time: 12 minutes per batch
Yield: 4 dozen cookies
Adapted from a recipe by Marian Loehndorfph who, at 71, still bakes the cookies from a card written in her mother’s hand. “They are comfort food that never fails to remind me of her and times long ago,” she says.
1 cup each: granulated sugar, packed light brown sugar, vegetable shortening
1/2 cup cocoa powder
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup milk
3 cups flour
3/4 cup each: chopped nuts, raisins
1 teaspoon each: baking soda, vanilla extract, salt
1 can (16 ounces) prepared chocolate frosting
1. Heat oven to 375 degrees. Combine sugars, shortening and cocoa in bowl of an electric mixer; beat on medium speed until creamy. Beat in eggs. Beat in milk until smooth; beat in vanilla.
2. Combine flour, baking soda and salt in medium bowl; add to batter. Stir in nuts and raisins.
3. Drop dough by tablespoon 2 inches apart on lightly greased or parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake until puffy and lightly browned around the edges, about 12 minutes per batch. Remove from pan to wire rack; cool 20 minutes. Frost cookies with chocolate frosting.
Nutrition information per cookie:
163 calories, 40% of calories from fat, 7 g fat, 2 g saturated fat, 9 mg cholesterol, 23 g carbohydrates, 2 g protein, 99 mg sodium, 1 g fiber
Lightning cake
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cooking time: 30 minutes
Yield: 8 servings
This simple cake is adapted from a recipe sent by Joan Anderson of Downers Grove, who wrote, “This is not a special-occasion recipe, but an often-used everyday one. It goes back to my great-grandmother, who was born in 1849. It tasted better when I first learned to make it because I was using home-churned butter, eggs straight from the henhouse and milk straight from the cow.”
1/2 cup melted butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Beat butter and sugar until fluffy in bowl of electric mixer on medium-high speed. Add eggs, one at a time, beating until well combined.
2. Sift together flour, baking powder and salt in medium bowl. Add dry ingredients to butter-sugar mixture, alternating with milk, and beating until smooth. Transfer batter to a greased 8-inch-square pan. Bake until golden and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean, 30-35 minutes.
Nutrition information per serving:
284 calories, 41% of calories from fat, 13 g fat, 6 g saturated fat, 84 mg cholesterol, 38 g carbohydrates, 4 g protein, 267 mg sodium, 0.4 g fiber
Esther’s ceiling cake
Preparation time: 25 minutes
Cooking time: 40 minutes
Cooling time: 10 minutes
Yield: 6 servings
Mildred Libman of Northbrook wrote: “This cake got its name when part of the kitchen ceiling fell on the cake as it was cooling. It has been known as ceiling cake for at least 80 years in my family. Unfortunately, I am the only one who remembers this event.” Libman, the youngest of nine children (all of her siblings have since died), treasures this cake because it is named for her sister, Esther Schreiber, who gave the recipe to her.
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons butter
2 eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup flour
2 large Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, each cut into 8 pieces
1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Mix together 2 tablespoons of the sugar, pecans and cinnamon in a small bowl; set aside.
2. Beat together the remaining 1 cup sugar and the butter in bowl of an electric mixer on medium speed until creamy. Beat in eggs one at a time. Stir baking powder into flour in a measuring cup. Stir flour into batter until smooth. (It will be thick.)
3. Place apples on the bottom of a buttered 8-inch round baking pan. Sprinkle with sugar mixture; top with batter. Bake until golden, about 40 minutes. Cool 10 minutes. To serve, invert it over a plate so that the apples are on the top.
Nutrition information per serving:
369 calories, 30% of calories from fat, 13 g fat, 3 g saturated fat, 80 mg cholesterol, 61 g carbohydrates, 5 g protein, 132 mg sodium, 2.6 g fiber
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A treasure-trove of recipes
Dear readers,
Thank you for your generous outpouring of family recipes. Because of the overwhelming response to our call for recipes, we have many that we were unable to use in this story. So we have decided to continue printing the recipes in a new column, Heirloom Cook, which will replace our You’re the Cook column. It will appear biweekly through the end of this year. Those whose recipes are selected for Heirloom Cook and for this week’s cover story will receive a $25 gift certificate to Marshall Field’s.
–Good Eating editors
