Legacy in a Box

I'm linking up today with Bloom (in)courage Book Club, which just finished reading bread & wine: a love letter to life around the table with recipes by Shauna Niequist.

I opened the box. I don't remember why - looking for my tried and true zucchini bread recipe to use some of the season's bounty? Searching for inspiration for dinner? I suppose it doesn't matter why I opened the box, what matters is what I realized when I opened it like I'd done hundreds of times before.

I had recently finished reading bread & wine, and while I thoroughly enjoyed the book, I came away feeling a little inadequate, wishing I enjoyed throwing my doors wide open, scaring up innovative seating for spontaneous guests and being more innovative in the kitchen. It's a minor struggle ... learning to exercise the gift of hospitality that comes so easily to others in my life.

But as I flipped through the cards, I realized that there is a treasured legacy residing in my recipe box. A community of the heart built one relationship and one recipe at a time. The women who have shared recipes with me through the years each represent a special part of my heart and life around my family's table.

There are recipes from my childhood in my mom's handwriting, written on the back of data cards recycled from her stint at the U.S. Census Bureau. These recipes include molasses crinkles and raggedy robins. I remember making Japanese teacakes with her, most likely as part of earning a merit badge for GAs at church. The teacake recipe still resides in my recipe box, written in my elementary cursive.

And then there's the recipe for Aunt Rosie's coconut cake. We lost Aunt Rosie to pancreatic cancer just last month, but I will always be glad I have her cake recipe. Perhaps it's time to make it in her honor.

Two women who have probably had the most influence on me in the kitchen are Pam and Natalie. Their contributions to my life, my family and my recipe box are significant and many. Pam always went out of her way to make sure my husband had some combination of peanut butter and chocolate for dessert, so my recipe box contains a number of recipes for delightful concoctions. The most treasured recipes I have from her are e-mailed recipes dated November 07, 2000, just weeks after I became a Mrs. She e-mailed me her recipes for beef vegetable soup and chicken corn soup. I think that's when our almost-annual tradition of Soup Day began. She and I would cook soup all afternoon while the guys watched the game or worked on a project and then we'd share dinner together. Sometimes we'd try new soup recipes, but we always included one or both of these stand-bys. It's been several years since our last Soup Day and while she's no longer on this earth to live and laugh beside me, I'm so grateful for the memories we made and shared together in the kitchen.

Like Pam, Natalie is a gifted, gracious hostess. We have shared thousands of escapades during our friendship, and some of the best have been in the kitchen. I used to be her sous chef, but a few years ago, she told me I'd completed my apprenticeship. Ha. Nearly 20 years ago, after separate trips to New Orleans, we decided to throw a Mardi Gras party to help break up the long, dreary, Pennsylvania winter. That was our first attempt at making gumbo and it was gone so fast, we didn't get to have more than a taste ourselves. (That party was also the time we thought we'd seriously miscalculated how much food we needed and purchased extra frozen appetizers for back-up. Lesson learned: It's better to have too much food than too little.) Since then, we've perfected our version of gumbo and have deemed it Natalie and Elizabeth's Gourmet Gucci Gumbo, since it's our creative take on the traditional version you would find down Louisiana way. We've missed a few years, but try to make it together every February or March.

King's Hawaiian French Toast is one of my favorite breakfast recipes. The story goes that my cousin's husband cooked up a big batch and was boasting about it being a secret family recipe, not to be replicated. Some time later, my uncle picked up a loaf of King's Hawaiian bread and found the not-so-secret recipe right on the back of the bag. My family's been enjoying it ever since.

Cajun pretzels remain a crowd favorite nearly 20 years after a co-worker brought them into work. I've included the recipe below, but beware ... they have a bit of a kick and are addictive! Impossible to eat just one.

Refrigerator rolls from Great Aunt Helen, who was always dressed to the nines and in stiletto heels well into her 90s; chocolate trifle from June, who sets off on a cross-country motorcycle trip tomorrow; chicken enchiladas from Ellen; a "Gotta Try!" party food recipe from Dona handwritten on a scrap of a Pennsylvania map; Heidi's San Antonio quinoa; the list goes on.

I have a recipes board on Pinterest, but it's nothing compared to a few minutes flipping through the cards in my recipe box, remembering life, laughter and tears beside the women who have freely shared themselves, their hospitality and their culinary abilities with me and the ones I love.

Cajun Pretzels

2 lbs. broken beer pretzels
1.5 cups vegetable oil
2 tsp. cayenne red pepper
1 T broiled steak seasoning (or seasoned salt)
1/2 tsp. dillweed
1 T Creole seasoning
1 package Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing mix (original)

Combine all ingredients except pretzels. Mix well. Put pretzels in large baking pan and pour mixture over pretzels. MIX PRETZELS WELL. (yes, this is written in all caps on my recipe card!) Bake at 225 for 1.5 hours, stirring every 15-20 minutes.