Tag: dessert

Applesauce Cookies

’Twas the week before Christmas, and there was at least one young boy in Hayward, Wisconsin, who was worried sick. The ground was bare, which meant that Santa Claus and I had serious problems. As I recall, mine seemed more important than Santa’s: How could he leave me any presents if he couldn’t land anywhere in town?

I don’t remember how old I was, but I was old enough to know that Santa needed snow to land his sleigh at our house. I had been pulling my sled since I was three or four years old, and if there was one thing I had learned, a sled doesn’t slide very well over bare ground even with just one sister on it.

When I asked my mother what Santa Claus was going to do, she told me to ask my father, since he was a mechanic who knew about such things. When he got home from the garage, I was waiting in the driveway. My recollection is that our conversation went something like this.

“Dad, what is Santa Claus going to do? There’s no snow,” I explained.

“Well, Chuck, what did Ma say?” he responded.

“She told me to ask you,” I answered. “She said you would know the answer.”

He thought for a moment and then explained that Santa delivered presents to boys and girls all over the world, even where there was never any snow. “He has a set of wheels bolted under the sleigh. Do you remember the wheels on the airplane we saw last summer with wheels and pontoons?” he asked.

“The pilot said it was so they could land on lakes and airports,” I told him.

“Santa Claus’s sleigh is fixed up the same way, except with skis,” he explained.

“But why don’t the pictures of Santa show the wheels?”

“Well, they retract under the sleigh, so you can’t see them unless they’re down. Don’t worry, Santa will make it. Let’s go in and see if Ma has supper ready, okay?”

So I never got to ask my next question, which was, “Are there pictures of Santa’s sleigh with wheels landing in the desert?” I sometimes wonder how Dad would have answered that one, but Santa’s arrival a few days later pushed the question out of my mind. Dad was right, and there were presents for me under the tree that he also brought, probably in a trailer behind the sleigh.

I don’t remember anything else about that snowless Christmas, but I have some indelible memories of later ones. Not all were pleasant at the time. For instance, when my little sister Betty was four or five, she woke up early Christmas morning and opened every present under the tree. We didn’t know how they did it, but Mom and Dad figured out who was supposed to get the various things Santa had left. It took considerably longer to determine which aunt or uncle had given what to whom.

And there was the Christmas a few years later when we three older kids got up early and ate nuts that Santa had left. As the oldest I got the job of cracking the walnuts, pecans and almonds for my sisters. Santa had forgotten to put out a bowl for the shells, so we just tossed them on the floor. When my father came out of the bedroom on his way to the bathroom in his long underwear, he had to walk past the Christmas tree.

My sisters tell me they remember Dad being mad, and they are probably right. My memory, however, is of my father looking like a white grasshopper jumping up and down while grunting things like “Ooh, ow, what the, uh.” He reminded me of a young frontiersman I had read about who was forced to walk over hot coals, except that the hero was so brave that his captors adopted him for not crying out as he stepped through the fire.

At least in our family, Christmas was a child-centered holiday. My siblings and I share a lot of wonderful memories of those special days in late December. Two that I remember are the gift bags we got at church and school. Every child got a brown paper bag filled with an apple, an orange, some wonderful hard ribbon candy and some nuts.

The bag from church was first given to us the Sunday before Christmas after the service. The minister would explain the meaning of the gift and a lady would hand each of us our bag. When we went to Blair School we got the bags after our Christmas program which was held the evening of the day before Christmas vacation began. Every family showed up with all the kids, and it was a really fun time.

Families were greeted by the teacher who had guided us in decorating the school tree with strings of popcorn and cranberries, paper chains and snowflakes cut in almost as many patterns as real snowflakes. Mr. Ploof, the school janitor, had cut and placed a spruce tree in the front of the classroom and strung the lights. This was the first time we got to see our work after dark with the room lit only by the tree. Like my schoolmates, I showed my mother and father my contributions. We had practiced singing carols and every year one of the older students recited “A Visit from Saint Nicholas” to enthusiastic applause.

The program always ended with everyone joining in a few familiar holiday songs like “Over the River and Through the Woods,” “Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly” and “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.” There was cocoa and coffee and cookies and fudge and everyone had a good time before we headed home.

We kids remember different things about Christmas at home. My sister Barb and I remember making popcorn strings for the tree, and she recalls making popcorn balls for Christmas that may have stuck to my hands but not in my memory.

Our younger sister Patsy remembers traditional gifts that she looked forward to—a big box of red delicious apples from Grandma Hopp and Uncle Bill and a card for each of us with money in it from Aunt Stub. Another tradition was a case of pop. We were treated to a case of pop only three or four times a year. Dad would drive us to Charlie Jerome’s feed mill and store next to the railroad tracks where we got to fill the twenty-four slots in the wooden crate with our favorite flavors.

Patsy also remembers a special Christmas when she was about seven years old. She had asked Santa for a holster set of pearl-handled pistols like ones in the westerns. Alas, no guns for the girl on Christmas morning! But Mom and Dad suggested that Santa might have left them at John and Rose’s, our neighbors down the road. Sure enough, Santa had not forgotten the little gunslinger. Patsy thinks there might have been some things for her younger brother and sister, but those guns blotted out every other memory.

And there were the special handmade gifts. Socks and mittens and hats knitted by Mom, big stuffed teddy bears made by Grandma and Grandpa Hopp one year, and a toy chest made for Patsy and the younger kids by Uncle Ruel. Patsy had found the chest in the Christmas catalog, but Mom and Dad couldn’t afford it, so Mom asked her older brother if he could make one that looked like it. He could and did, and it is still in use by great-grandkids.

Finally, we all have memories of special foods for Christmas. Barbara shared this one.

“Another memory is Mom making applesauce cookies.  I don’t know if she made them for Christmas, but she made them often, and I suspect she did them in December, too.  We kids loved this ‘cake cookie,’ and so I think that’s why she made them so frequently….she had lots of canned apple sauce on hand, so the cookies were easy to put together at little expense.  Patsy can’t remember seeing a recipe for Applesauce Cookies, but Mom may have had one or did the recipe from memory.”

I could not find her recipe, so I went to The Mennonite Community Cookbook, which has lots of traditional recipes. My sisters and I agree that this recipe is very close to the one Mom used for her applesauce cookies. Simple, easy and inexpensive, especially if you have homemade applesauce from your own tree. Canned from the store works just fine if you don’t.

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 cup unsweetened applesauce
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves
3/4 cup raisins
1/2 cup chopped nuts (optional)

PROCEDURE:

Preheat the oven to 375º and grease two baking sheets. Cream the shortening and sugar. Stir in the egg and applesauce. Sift the flour, salt, soda, baking powder and spices into the sugar and applesauce mixture by thirds, stirring until everything is well mixed. Fold in the raisins and the nuts, if you include them.

Drop by heaping spoonfuls two to three inches apart on the greased baking sheets and bake at 375º ten to twelve minutes. Done right, the cookies will be browned on the edges but still a little soft in the center. They will stay soft but not gummy after they have cooled.

This recipe makes about four dozen cookies.

NOTES: Both Barb and Patsy think that Mom added nuts when she had some available, but that most of the time, she just used raisins. Barb had a good suggestion: Use half of the dough to bake the first batch in the oven, then add nuts for the second batch if you wish.

If you don’t have unsweetened applesauce, scoop a tablespoon of sugar out of the cup before you cream it with the shortening.

Joyce’s Snickerdoodles

You’re walking in a Mall when suddenly you feel hungry. You stop in front of the store whose name combines cinnamon with a misspelled word for a small sweet roll. The smell of cinnamon has sent a message to your brain which says, “Time for something tasty, time for something good, time for something just like grandma used to make.”

Psychologists and neuroscientists have wondered why smells trigger such vivid memories for most of us. They are pretty sure that the reason has to do with how our noses are hooked into our brains. The olfactory bulb which starts in our nose has close connections to two parts of the brain associated with emotion and memory. When we smell something, the nerve cells in the olfactory bulb send messages directly to those parts of the brain that remind us of something important.

I wonder if a good sense of smell helped our ancestors survive. The smell of smoke tells us to beware of fire and if you happen to smell the foul odor of a brown bear’s rotten fish breath, you might want to leave the territory as fast as you can. Our distant ancestors undoubtedly knew that if a cave smelled like saber-toothed tiger, it would make sense to find another place to stay for the night.

When I was a boy my father’s parents used kerosene lamps in their home. I still love the memories that the smell of those lamps brings back. I can still see the soft sheen of the oak kitchen table, the shadowy corners in the big room and the flickering light from the stove. I can almost hear the grownups talking as they drink coffee and we eat cake or some other dessert that grandma had made. On summer nights, the curtains fluttered in the tall windows, and in the winter, I could see stars just by standing in front of one of the windows farthest from the table.

I don’t associate the smell of cinnamon with my grandmothers, but it has a special place in my memories of my mother. She bought cinnamon in large cans and was generous with it in her pies, cakes, puddings and cookies. When I smell a warm cinnamon roll, I can still see her shaking cinnamon over rolled-out dough on the table. Maybe that’s the reason why I hardly ever pass a bakery without stopping: To enjoy a happy memory of childhood.

Snickerdoodles are not one of my childhood memories, though my mother probably made them. She and my father both grew up in German homes, and Snickerdoodle sounds suspiciously like an American pronunciation of a German or Dutch word. It doesn’t really matter. What is important is that Snickerdoodles are really easy to make and eat.

This recipe came to Jerri from her sister-in-law Joyce who included it in a recipe box she gave us shortly after we were married. Joyce copied a couple dozen of her favorite recipes and filed them neatly in their proper category, so her recipe for Angel Pecan Pie is filed under Pastry and the one for Snickerdoodles is under Cookies and Bars. It was a thoughtful and personal gift that brings back wonderful memories every time we consult the box which is now filled to overflowing with recipes Jerri has added to the starter set from Joyce.

True Snickerdoodle recipes use cream of tartar and baking soda instead of baking powder to leaven the cookies. Cream of tartar is an acid that reacts with the soda to create carbon dioxide bubbles that make the cookies tender and light. Many cookie recipes use baking powder, but using two teaspoons of cream of tartar to activate the soda gives the cookies a delightful flavor from the extra acid.

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup shortening

1 1/2 cups sugar

2 eggs

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

2 tsp. cream of tartar

1 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. salt

2 T sugar

2 tsp. cinnamon

PROCEDURE:

Cream the butter, shortening and sugar until it is light and fluffy. Add the eggs and stir until you have a smooth batter. Sift the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda and salt by thirds into the batter, stirring well after each addition.

Preheat the oven to 400º and stir two teaspoons of cinnamon into two tablespoons of sugar in a small bowl.

Roll rounded tablespoons of dough into balls the size of small walnuts. Roll the balls in the cinnamon sugar and place them two inches apart on ungreased baking sheets. Bake them until they are light brown but still soft, eight to ten minutes.

NOTE:  If you bake these cookies until they look completely cooked and dry, they will be hard. Such cookies are perfectly edible, but snickerdoodles are much better if they are chewy.

If you are making them for the first time, put a half dozen cookies on each of three small baking sheets. Make sure that your oven has reached 400º before you put the sheets into the oven. Take the first sheet out at eight minutes, the second at nine and the last at ten minutes. Try a cookie from each sheet and bake the remainder of the dough for the time you prefer, but I think they are best when baked for eight and a half or nine minutes.

This recipe makes about three dozen cookies.

ve the memories that the smell of those lamps brings back. I can still see the soft sheen of the oak kitchen table, the shadowy corners in the big room and the flickering light from the stove. I can almost hear the grownups talking as they drink coffee and we eat cake or some other dessert that grandma had made. On summer nights, the curtains fluttered in the tall windows, and in the winter, I could see stars just by standing in front of one of the windows farthest from the table.

Oddly enough I don’t associate the smell of cinnamon with my grandmothers, but it has a special place in my memories of my mother. She bought cinnamon in large cans and was generous with it in her pies, cakes, puddings and cookies. When I smell a warm cinnamon roll, I can still see her shaking cinnamon over rolled-out dough on the table. Maybe that’s the reason why I hardly ever pass a bakery without stopping: To enjoy a happy memory of childhood.

Snickerdoodles are not one of my childhood memories, though my mother probably made them. She and my father both grew up in German homes, and Snickerdoodle sounds suspiciously like an American pronunciation of a German or Dutch word. It doesn’t really matter. What is important is that Snickerdoodles are really easy to make and eat.

This recipe came to Jerri from her sister-in-law Joyce who included it in a recipe box she gave us shortly after we were married. Joyce copied a couple dozen of her favorite recipes and filed them neatly in their proper category, so her recipe for Angel Pecan Pie is filed under Pastry and the one for Snickerdoodles is under Cookies and Bars. It was a thoughtful and personal gift that brings back wonderful memories every time we consult the box which is now filled to overflowing with recipes Jerri has added to the starter set from Joyce to her new sister-in-law.

True Snickerdoodle recipes use cream of tartar and baking soda instead of baking powder to leaven the cookies. Cream of tartar is an acid that reacts with the soda to create carbon dioxide bubbles that make the cookies tender and light. Many cookie recipes use baking powder, but using two whole teaspoons of cream of tartar to activate the soda gives the cookies a delightful flavor from the extra acid.

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup shortening
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. cream of tartar
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
2 T sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon

PROCEDURE:

Cream the butter, shortening and sugar until it is light and fluffy. Add the eggs and stir until you have a smooth batter. Sift the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda and salt by thirds into the batter, stirring well after each addition.

Preheat the oven to 400º and stir two teaspoons of cinnamon into two tablespoons of sugar in a small bowl.

Roll rounded tablespoons of dough into balls the size of small walnuts, about an inch in diameter. Roll the balls in the cinnamon sugar and place them two inches apart on ungreased baking sheets. Bake them until they are light brown but still soft, eight to ten minutes.

NOTE: If you bake these cookies until they look completely cooked and dry, they will be hard. Such cookies are perfectly edible, but snickerdoodles are much better if they are chewy.

If you are making them for the first time, put a half dozen cookies on each of two or three small sheets. Make sure that your oven has reached 400º before you put the sheets into the oven. Take the first sheet out at eight minutes, the second at nine and the last (if there is a third sheet) at ten minutes. Try a cookie from each sheet and bake the remainder of the dough for the time you prefer, but I think they are best when baked for eight and a half or nine minutes.

This recipe makes about three dozen cookies.