Me in my Christmas apron that the prodigal son made when he was 4-years old. |
My trusty Kitchen Aid Mixer--a gift from my mother-in-law, long ago. |
When the engagement and then the marriage came in 1980, I was finally enlightened in the ways of Nana Mitchell's Christmas Cakes and for the first 10 years or so of my marriage, I dutifully made these things that took hours and hours of grinding and mixing of ingredients then combining this mixture with even more ingredients that still shall remain nameless to the general public before spending hours baking 12 dozen of these babies. If my sisters-in-law and nieces on the Rinek side of the family are reading this, I hope they are nodding their heads in agreement as to the intensive labor that goes into these things. Yes, I know for our childrens' sakes, who all seem to have been born with the same specific Rinek/Mitchell gene that programs them to come out of the womb begging for these things to be made at Christmas, I know the effort is entirely worth it.
However, here I am, thirty-one years into the marriage with the lingering memory of Lynn and Linda, looking pretty and happy with cookies filling every available space of my mother-in-law's kitchen those thirty-five years ago and I'm all alone making these blasted things in my own kitchen...sigh. Peter, off to his monthly poker game, as if that takes precedence over family tradition, and the prodigal son deciding to stay at college to "just hang out for another day after grueling finals"--his words, not mine--I'll show him grueling alright! Still it could be worse, the dog could be out carousing with the devil deer, yet he chose to stay for his own reasons. Again it has something to do with licking one of the batter bowls...hope springs eternal!
Back to Nana Mitchell's Christmas Cake cookies that I have made at least every other year for the last twenty or so years, sometimes with help from Peter and the prodigal son and sometimes all on my own with an audience of at least one trusty dog or cat close by, not missing a trick. I will admit to playing "hookie" from these cookies now and then, but not very often. They are a much loved cookie here at Blooming Hill so, I persevere in honor of Lynn and all of the Mitchell women who came before her that made these cookies for their beloved families.
As I stand here thanking God that I have the blessings of a Cuisinart and Kitchen Aid Mixer to get me through this arduous task, I try to imagine how Lynn's mother, the Nana Mitchell that Peter and his siblings always refer to, was able to make these things without the benefit of modern appliances to do the heavy work of these meaty, chewy, cakey cookies? Oh yea...that's right...Nana Mitchell had two little Irish maids that cooked as well! And now, back to the cookies...where was I?
So, this year, I'm home alone on day two, determined to accomplish this Christmas Cake cookie-making crusade and wondering why this recipe is so special as to be secret? I pull the recipe out carefully and look it over for the hundredth time and then pull another recipe out from Peter's other grandmother, Gammy Rinek. It's an old Quaker recipe. I must say...these vintage recipes call for only the hardiest of Christmas cookie baking souls to attempt, much less survive making them altogether. This one called Orange Bread, involves candied orange peel, and currant jelly along with six cups of flour and lots and lots of butter! I remember these as being just delicious, as well as even harder to make and almost like a hard candy of sorts--can be a bit rough on the teeth and gums! I carefully fold the paper back up and stash that one away in my recipe files under the category of "Don't Even Think About It!"
I reach for the glass of wine accompanying me through this lonely Christmas chore of rolling and cutting and sprinkling of cookie cake shapes and decide to add a Swedish spin to this Scottish recipe and dunk a star shaped morsel into the wine, let it soak up a good bit of it and then bite off that portion to savor. Ahhhh, now this is where the secret begins! Delicious--maybe not part of the recipe, but definitely worth adding to the instructions. I'm not so home alone anymore but enjoying the fruits of my labor and many happy memories of Christmas's past.
A little lavender mulled wine makes everything taste good! |