Poutine

Last summer, in Victoria, Canada, we had a special treat. Along with the fish and chips we had waited so anxiously for- from Red Fish Blue Fish (yes, we stood in line for over two hours!), we were able to taste and savor Poutine at a different meal. Wow- it was comfort food on a platter! Well, in a bowl, but the idea is still the same. Ever since then, I have been scouring the web for a comparable recipe. I finally found one, thanks to a wonderful Canadian, and was able to make the creation this week. We even have a local cheese factory for the white cheddar curds- perfect! 

We curly cut the potatoes and baked them, a bit different from fried, but still incredibly yummy! As we sat out back and ate our dinner, we were flooded with memories of that camping trip! So fun!  And there was even a serving left to enjoy later :)  Like I said- comfort food in a bowl- a wonderful takeaway from Canada! 

Uh-maz-ing! It's Grandma's!!!

I wrote here about my bread adventures. Well, once that bread came out of the oven, not only did it smell just like, but it TASTED just like my Grandma's too!  I even called my cousin, who was close by, and had her come taste it to make sure I wasn't dreaming!  Then my sweet mother came by to seal the deal- and sure 'nuf- it's the real thing!  I could not be more happy!

I made the bread again this week and shared some loaves. It is just dreamy! It makes me smile each time I start grinding the wheat! And I love eating healthy, so it's an added bonus. I want to share the legacy, so sharing the recipe it is!  My Grandma based her recipe on the Magic Mill "Foolproof" bread recipe, but she changed it up, switched around, and edited quite a bit- that's what took so many years to figure out. (I actually just found a copy of the recipe book at a thrift store yesterday so I could have it for future generations- I giggled when I saw it!!) So here goes-

My Grandma's bread- otherwise known as the "BEST BREAD ON THE PLANET"

(adapted from Magic Mill Foolproof Bread Recipe)

4 Tbl dry yeast
1/2 C warm water
2 C milk
3 C hot tap water
2 Tbl salt
2/3 C oil
2/3 C honey
2 eggs
2 C white flour
8 C freshly ground red whole wheat flour

Instructions

1. Add yeast to the 1/2 C warm water. Stir. Let stand 10 minutes.

2. Combine hot tap water, milk, and 7 C wheat in Bosch mixer. Mix on low speed until 
blended. 

3. Add salt, oil, and honey. Continue to mix until blended. 
Add 1 C flour to mixture.  Keep mixing.
Add prepared yeast to mixture and blend thoroughly.   
Add eggs and blend thoroughly.

4. Add rest of flour to mixture. Knead for 10 minutes on low speed.

5. Remove dough and roll in to four loaves on oiled counter. Place into oiled pans. 
Oil top of loaves for soft crust. Place warm damp rag over loaves and allow to 
rise 1/3 in bulk for about 35 minutes (I did 45 min. - for high altitude).

6. Bake at 350* for 40-45 minutes. Remove from pans. Put on rack to cool.  Brush 
tops with butter if desired.

Serve with butter and honey while WARM!!  Enjoy!

Look Up

It's a dream of mine to someday live in a place that I can look up and see the stars. 

Yes, I can see seem stars where I live now. It's not a "big city" by any means, but it's city enough to not have tons of stars visible. For some reason our dinner conversation revolved around stars tonight, and it got me thinking. I recalled a family camping trip a few years back, out in the boonies, where dear hubby woke us all up to come outside and gaze at the stars. "Seeing" the stars could never describe the view before my eyes, it was definitely "gazing"!!  Stars is an understatement- as far and as deep as you could fathom, there were stars. It felt like you could reach up and touch them. Just incredible- the Milky Way was right there, soaring through the sky, as clear as day! I mentioned at dinner tonight, that that was the first time I could recall seeing that many stars. Dear hubby looked shocked and asked, "Didn't you see that many growing up?!" 

Well, I grew up in a fairly small town in the deep South, and there were not tons of lights around. I can recall summer evenings chasing fireflies, and playing family baseball until it got too dark to see the ball. I can remember talking to the Man in the Moon- I love the night sky, just plain and simple, so yes, the Man in the Moon and I are on a first name basis. So I really thought about my hubby's question. And I thought hard...

I finally had to respond, "I guess I didn't look up". It jerked my heart a bit to admit that I didn't remember if there were crazy awesome numbers of stars in the sky where I grew up. Then I thought about all the other things I didn't want to miss if I didn't look UP, or AROUND, or DOWN, or ANYWHERE! I don't ever want to look back and think that I just didn't look. I want to be here. aware. right now. I want to soak it all in, and breathe it to my core. I want to be part of life, of everyday, of living. 

Maybe someday I will have that little spot where I can look up and see the heavens opened up with stars each night, or maybe I will just have to dream. But either way, I will make sure I am looking every day! 

Smell

The nose is an amazing thing! Not only does it help give our food flavor, it can bring back memories like no other! For years now, all of my family has tried to reproduce my Grandma's bread. She passed away 19 years ago and tasting her bread was like getting a warm hug from her. But no one knew how to make it. All that was left was her recipe book. Her recipe page had notes all over it and things crossed out every which way.  No one had been able to figure out her concoction. My dear aunt had copied the recipe for all of us so we could all give it a go. Once someone got it right, we would all rejoice. I got a Bosch almost 7 years ago and set out to accomplish the feat. I failed miserably, time and time again. The smell was never there, and needless to say, the taste fell short too. I have been thinking and working my brain over this the past year. Today I pulled out the worn recipe again. 

I studied it once more, with 7 years more cooking experience, and felt much more confident than the last time I tried years ago. I just couldn't bring myself to miss it another time, but I was ready to try again today. I noticed an extra few cups of flour I had not noticed before and that gave me the added fuel I needed to try. I ground the red wheat flour and got busy! Making bread amazes me- watching the kneading paddles punch the dough into yumminess. The rising worked- I was worried since it is such a cold day. And now my timer has almost expired for the completed product. 

I don't know how it will taste, but the SMELL!  The smell is enough to take me back to South Carolina and see my Grandma in her kitchen with her apron on! It is like a dream come true. I hope against hope that the taste is there, once it is slathered in butter, of course. But if not, I have had 40 glorious minutes of memory smell!  And that does a soul good! Fingers crossed for the taste, and if it's there, I'll be making loaves for all my cousins!

Remember...

When I was growing up, I would often get the chance to be at my grandparent's home. I had two favorite times: dinner and bed time, which translated to story time. Dinner was amazing because my Grandpa would come home from a hard, long day's work and tell Grandma and I the day's stories. He could tell a story like no other! As he told stories, we ate homemade food that tasted like no other.

One of the moments I will never forget, that happened at each meal, is my Grandpa stirring his entire plate of delectable food all together. I remember the first time he saw my concern. He grinned and said, "It's all goin' to the same place, Sister." He referred to all the women folk in his family as "Sister"- his daughters, sisters, nieces, granddaughters, etc. The only variation from that was how he referred to my Grandma and that was "Mother".

The stories he told were full of smiles, jokes, and exciting events that could have been everyday ordinary to some other people, but not to us! No, there was always something interesting and moving about the moments of his day. Once the food was finished, Grandma would offer the prized dessert, Ice Milk. It was a watered down version of ice cream, and it was "better for you". Gobble it up, I did. There were Fudge Stripe cookies that could be added to the Ice Milk, which probably negated the "better for you" part, but delicious nonetheless.

Once the evening was over, the bedtime part of the day came. I would crawl under the covers in my grandma's bed and Grandpa would sit beside me. He didn't even have to ask which stories I wanted to hear. It was always the same, and The Three Pigs was my favorite. For such a simple, little tale, my grandpa made it come to life. It still lives in my mind, almost 13 years after his death, as the most incredible story. I must admit, though, it was the way he told it. He had a gift, and that gift could make any tale sheer entertainment. There is no other way to explain it- you had to hear it from his lips to understand. The characters were alive, in front of you, and you could witness the action each time he spoke. As the story would end, I would have always drifted off to sleep. If sleep now could be like the sleep of those childhood days...

I remember so I can give the gift of stories and sharing to my own children. There is something magical about reading and telling stories. It is a simple thing, but something that can affect a life. If their memories can be half as full as mine, then I will have done my job! However, I don't think I could ever stir my plate all together, even if it is all goin' to the same place ;)