Grandma’s Kitchen: Recipes and More
Grandma Longenecker’s kitchen was many yards long with the necessities for cooking at one end where an old cook-stove squatted and the comforts of dining on an old oak table at the other end, bounded by three bay windows.
One of my earliest memories is seeing flames leaping out of Grandma’s old cook-stove as she used her metal tool to lift the burner, just as you see in the drawing.
Everything Grandma made was from scratch. From sauerkraut to pot pie—even cakes of lye soap, “Homemade is best,” she’d say.
I have vivid memories of helping Grandma make potpie. We rolled out the dough and cut it into squares. Then, standing on a chair beside her at the stove, I would spot a hole in the chicken broth seething in the kettle and try to drop in a square of dough without singeing my fingers. It was warm and steamy and more fun than mud-pies, plus the results were edible. Often served with her yummy coleslaw, tart with vinegar, and made with cabbage from her vegetable garden.
Table set for Christmas Dinner 2004:
What soul food do you connect with your Grandma, other relative?
Up next: Mom’s Kitchen, Aunt Ruthie’s Kitchen
© Marian Beaman
5 thoughts on “Grandma’s Kitchen: Recipes & More”
Reminscent of my granny frying chicken on an old wood burning stove. Fried chicken was a staple on a Sunday after church in the South. Miss the smell and flavor of chicken fried in lard over wood. Wonder why we have high cholesterol?
One of my favorite memories is making homemade peach tarts with my mother and sister on Sundays. Mom would mix 2/3 dried peaches with 1/3 dried apricots, & then slowly cook them to ‘mush’, adding tons of sugar, of course! The cozy kitchen always smelled wonderful. When the peaches were done, she would make pie dough by hand and roll it out. My sister’s job was to cut circles into the dough, and put 2 spoonfuls of peaches in. Then, I would carefully fold over the dough, crimp the edges, & puncture the top with a fork. This treat was now ready for deep-frying by my mother. They were so delicious and golden brown when done that they rarely made it onto plates! The few leftover tarts tasted great even when cold. YUM!
I can just smell those peaches mingled with apricots. Golly–it’s great to hear from you again! Keep ’em coming. Hugs, M.
I also have fond memories of potpie. I grew up in central Pennsylvania. My family wasn’t Mennonite, but I think that our families had similar food traditions.
Thanks for commenting here, Sheryl. I have to smile when I see this fledgling blog post with so few comments. I believe it was only my second one ever and of course focused on family history. Mother was a great cook too with hearty recipes – lots of butter.
When I saw your blog banner, my first thought was a Pennsylvania setting because of the architecture. Also, the vintage table-scapes you have featured recently remind to to use holly sprigs on our holiday table; we have a bush near-by. You trade in nostalgia too, a comforting state of mind during stressful times like these, I think we would agree.
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