Amazing.
I went over to my friend's house this evening to trade parenting teenager books (necessary reading these days), and she had bran muffins to offer me.
But I myself baked bran muffins this afternoon, using my grandmother's recipe. The recipe card has been in my possession for about 20 years, and this was the first time I made them. Apparently Jen has a recipe from another friend for "refrigerator bran muffins" -- essentially, I think, the same thing.
There are several things I love about this recipe card. Firstly, it has my grandmother's handwriting in the corner: Rose B. It has a suggestion: "Try 6 teaspoons bkg soda," and a rejection of that suggestion (the note is crossed out).
It also features my grandmother's voice, her commanding presence: "Always serve warm." Hard to read -- clearly she made a typing error and then went over it, with her typewriter. Who types out recipe cards anymore? (Who even writes them out, except me?) The best part of the recipe, of course, is the quantity: by the pailful. "1/2 batch makes 45 to 50 muffins medium size." Really? Who needs that many muffins?!!
There was a time when my grandmother made bran muffins (and banana bread, and zucchini bread, and applesauce, and bread-and-butter pickles...) for a crowd. A large crowd. Sometimes for the entire congregation of the church, for coffee hour. Sometimes to sell at a bake sale -- usually to make money for the church, or for "cancer dressing" (what did that mean?), or for meals on wheels, or for the Countryside Center for the Handicapped, her favorite charity.
But she didn't just bake for charity. She actually sold recipe cards for charity. I suppose in her spare time she would get out her typewriter and copy her recipes onto cards -- bran muffins one evening, Rice Krispie Treats another evening, even CCH bars. I don't even know what CCH bars were -- but I do have a recipe card, copied out by my Aunt Jane, and someday I will try it.
My grandmother kept a basket on the floor in her living room full of these recipe cards, and whenever people came over (usually to work on some project in the basement that would generate something -- wastepaper baskets made out of ice cream containers from the local 31 Flavors, or flower vases made from old dishwashing liquid containers, which they would decorate with wallpaper samples, rick rack, or lace), she would offer them the chance to buy her best recipes. 10 cents a card.
To me as a child, this was all normal. Now, I think maybe not so much. But I loved that my grandmother was a do-gooder. People lived in fear of her phone calls. "This is Rose. Have you collected your money for penny-a-meal this month? I'll be over to get it this afternoon." "This is Rose. What are you bringing to the church potluck?" "This is Rose. What shift are you taking at the ice cream social on Sunday afternoon?"
How else do you think she got all those ice cream containers to turn into wastepaper baskets?!
My son now listens to my stories of my gramma and finds her to be a scary old lady. She was always formidable, and I was super-proud of that, but of course she lived a long time, and in the end she was truly rather a grouch. (I tell him that I too will be a grouch at the end -- some would argue I am frequently one now!) But regardless of the tough years (when her back started to act up, and she couldn't walk very well, and people stopped coming to see her because there weren't any projects going on), there were lots and lots of good years, when she was at the epicenter of a volunteer network that really got things done.
I am not as impressive on the phone as my grandmother was, but I like to think that I do my part in volunteering, donating, keeping the world rotating, and spreading love and good cheer. I may not sell any bran muffins by the pailful, but I'll at least be sharing them with neighbors. In fact, I sent my son's friend off with some for his family this afternoon.
As the recipe card says, "Can be stored in refrig. up to 4 weeks." I have some dough left over -- now I just need to decide whom to bake for!
Love you, gramma.
I went over to my friend's house this evening to trade parenting teenager books (necessary reading these days), and she had bran muffins to offer me.
But I myself baked bran muffins this afternoon, using my grandmother's recipe. The recipe card has been in my possession for about 20 years, and this was the first time I made them. Apparently Jen has a recipe from another friend for "refrigerator bran muffins" -- essentially, I think, the same thing.
There are several things I love about this recipe card. Firstly, it has my grandmother's handwriting in the corner: Rose B. It has a suggestion: "Try 6 teaspoons bkg soda," and a rejection of that suggestion (the note is crossed out).It also features my grandmother's voice, her commanding presence: "Always serve warm." Hard to read -- clearly she made a typing error and then went over it, with her typewriter. Who types out recipe cards anymore? (Who even writes them out, except me?) The best part of the recipe, of course, is the quantity: by the pailful. "1/2 batch makes 45 to 50 muffins medium size." Really? Who needs that many muffins?!!
There was a time when my grandmother made bran muffins (and banana bread, and zucchini bread, and applesauce, and bread-and-butter pickles...) for a crowd. A large crowd. Sometimes for the entire congregation of the church, for coffee hour. Sometimes to sell at a bake sale -- usually to make money for the church, or for "cancer dressing" (what did that mean?), or for meals on wheels, or for the Countryside Center for the Handicapped, her favorite charity.
But she didn't just bake for charity. She actually sold recipe cards for charity. I suppose in her spare time she would get out her typewriter and copy her recipes onto cards -- bran muffins one evening, Rice Krispie Treats another evening, even CCH bars. I don't even know what CCH bars were -- but I do have a recipe card, copied out by my Aunt Jane, and someday I will try it.
 |
| Does anyone use rick rack anymore? |
To me as a child, this was all normal. Now, I think maybe not so much. But I loved that my grandmother was a do-gooder. People lived in fear of her phone calls. "This is Rose. Have you collected your money for penny-a-meal this month? I'll be over to get it this afternoon." "This is Rose. What are you bringing to the church potluck?" "This is Rose. What shift are you taking at the ice cream social on Sunday afternoon?"
How else do you think she got all those ice cream containers to turn into wastepaper baskets?!
My son now listens to my stories of my gramma and finds her to be a scary old lady. She was always formidable, and I was super-proud of that, but of course she lived a long time, and in the end she was truly rather a grouch. (I tell him that I too will be a grouch at the end -- some would argue I am frequently one now!) But regardless of the tough years (when her back started to act up, and she couldn't walk very well, and people stopped coming to see her because there weren't any projects going on), there were lots and lots of good years, when she was at the epicenter of a volunteer network that really got things done.
I am not as impressive on the phone as my grandmother was, but I like to think that I do my part in volunteering, donating, keeping the world rotating, and spreading love and good cheer. I may not sell any bran muffins by the pailful, but I'll at least be sharing them with neighbors. In fact, I sent my son's friend off with some for his family this afternoon.
As the recipe card says, "Can be stored in refrig. up to 4 weeks." I have some dough left over -- now I just need to decide whom to bake for!
Love you, gramma.
No comments:
Post a Comment