THE COOKBOOK TEST #0020: GRANDMA'S RECIPE CARDS

INSTALLMENT #0020 (FREE) / ALL IN THE CARDS / RECIPES FOR ENTERTAINING / BRUNCH FOR EIGHT / A SHORT NOTE ON KAHLUA / SOUR CREAM ROLLS

Dear Readers,

The longer I write this column, the more I get the hang of what it's about. Part of what it's about is the cookbook-as-artifact, the book as a concrete totem of something abstract and ephemeral, the book as a way to pass along knowledge to anyone who can possess it physically. The printed word retains power, despite the fact that most of us live our lives in a flurry of digital characters and 20-second video clips. 

With that in mind, you can imagine how excited I was when my Aunt Jamie wrote to me after my Gourmet on the Go post and said that she was going to mail me my grandmother's collection of recipe cards. Here it is!

It's a legitimate artifact. Cards - some typed, some handwritten, some clipped from newspapers - contain recipes. The recipes are spare, written with gaps that the reader would fill in with knowledge from her own experiences and memories of the dish from prior incarnations. Every handwritten character is dear, so they're used parsimoniously. Titles suggest stories - Artpark Brownies, Sunny's Cranberry Mold, Golden Butter Horns, Vernie's Pie (which Aunt Jamie made, with mixed but not-inedible results.)

The "baker vs. cook" dynamic is something I keep bringing up in this column, and I guess I'm going to keep doing it - when I think about my grandmother's cooking, I think mostly about the meats and sides she served us for holiday meals, but those were done with a mix of experience and intuition. This collection of recipe cards is, by contrast, heavily baking- and dessert-focused. I chucked its 42 distinct recipes into a spreadsheet, and found that they broke down as follows:

So: 70% desserts. Mostly cakes, with some bars, cookies, and weird antique candy (Fairy Food, anyone?) thrown in for good measure. Lotta orange cakes for some reason.

As you can probably imagine, it's a bittersweet thing to page through these cards. My grandmother died about five years ago, not long after the birth of my daughter Geneva. It seems like Geneva picked up a lot of my grandmother's artistic inclination - even for a kid, she's a prodigious crafter of images with remarkably subtle use of color and form. Am I the first father deluded about his kid's artistic talent? Probably not! But do I really believe what I'm saying? I do! Check out this collection of portraits that Geneva painted of our black cats:

I smile every time I look at it. At any rate, that's really neither here nor there. Let's get back to the cards.

at your service,

James

RECIPE CARDS
BY PATRICIA NORTON
UNPUBLISHED

The thing that holds this collection together is this idea of people gathering over coffee - and probably cigarettes, back in the day, grandma smoked for many years - snacking on cake, gossiping, holding court, catching up, and passing time together. Some of these feel like just-the-family recipes, dessert for a weeknight, but many of more of them - sponge roll cake, Aunt Tillie's Rhubarb Pie, Kentucky Bourbon Balls - feel like they'd pop up at a picnic, or a brunch, or a holiday party. 

My wife and I entertain more than most people do these days but I don't doubt that we'd be virtual shut-ins compared to the families of the '50s and '60s who seemed to be living a series of housewarmings, barbecues, brunches, and dinner parties. Part of the glut of silver services and elaborate bowls and decanters out there in the world of thrifting is that a habit of getting big groups together under your own roof has largely come and gone.

I'll tell you what: these recipes make me want to plan a brunch, right now, and just see who might turn up. I think I'll do exactly that.

Editor’s note: He did exactly that, 17 people were invited, 11 turned up, homemade popovers and bacon and two kinds of quiche and about five pots of coffee were served. It was terrific. We listened to a Dave Brubeck record that we recently bought, too:

BRUNCH FOR EIGHT

Not surprisingly, the first recipe that jumped out at me from my grandma’s recipe cards was entitled "Brunch For Eight." Although it sounds like a menu, it's not - it's a single dish, assertive enough to claim the title of brunch all on its lonesome.

I've reproduced it below, with the only changes being a significant reduction in butter (a whole stick really felt like overkill, and I quite like butter), a boost to the mustard and salt, and a callout for "generous" cheese and ham to fill each egg-soaked breakfast sandwich.

Brunch for Eight

16 Slices of Bread, No Crust
Grease 9x13 pan
8 Slices on bottom
Generous amount of cheese and ham on each piece
Cover with 8 slices bread
Beat 8 eggs with 2 1/2 cups milk, 1 tsp dry mustard, 1 tsp salt
Pour over sandwich and let stand overnight
Sprinkle over all: 2 cups cornflakes crumbles and 4 Tbsp butter

Bake 1 hour at 350 F

A few observations after having made this. First of all, I love that it requires some fussing the night before and then a simple insertion into the oven the morning of your brunch. This is how cooking should work: a lot of fury during the advance prep period, and a serene firing / presentation for your guests.

Second of all, it looks and smells gorgeous. 

Third of all, when I made this, I erred in giving each of my sandwiches a relatively sparse coating of ham and cheese. I'd go 12 oz. at least of meat and 12 oz. of cheese the next time I made this, because between the bread and eggs, your main flavor components can get lost in the shuffle. My family didn't go for this, but I blame the under-powered flavor - I actually enjoyed it, but would lean into the meat next time to make this dish really sing. I wonder if some sautéed onions and some quality bottled mustard might actually add some dimension that would put this over the top. I’ll update you if I update the recipe.

A SHORT NOTE ON KAHLUA

I didn't execute the following recipe, but I thought I'd be remiss in not commenting upon it and sharing it: it's homemade Kahlua coffee liqueur.

As someone who regularly makes homemade cranberry vodka and aquavit, I'm really sympathetic to putting together housemade spins on commercially available booze - they tend to taste punchier, bolder, and just plain better than the factory-made alternatives. There isn't enough time in the day or glassware in the cabinet to do this for everything, but one of these days, homemade Kahlua is coming back into fashion around here.

Kahlua

Dissolve 2 cups of sugar in 2 cups strong hot coffee. Cool, add a fifth of vodka and a vanilla bean. Store 3-4 months.

SOUR CREAM ROLLS

My Aunt Jamie included a note urging me to make the Sour Cream Rolls, so I did. I have dim memories of these popping up occasionally when I was younger, but I don't remember the occasions or the significance, just that they were tasty and much sought-after. They're a bit of a production - they're a yeasted snack that needs a long or overnight chill and a post-rollout rise, plus a post-baking icing. 

I'm not 100% sure they came out as intended. They were delicious, yes. Crunchy on the bottom like a biscuit, due to butter leakage related to me under-mixing the butter into the flour. Dense, but rich with a slight tang of sour cream enhanced by the vanilla-flavored glaze. Very much in the realm of a good, stout doughnut - perfect with a cup of coffee or tea, and sparing the maker the mess and effort of deep frying. They could have been lighter, and more delicate, and more evenly baked, I suppose, but they were extremely tasty and I'd make them again.

Sour Cream Rolls

2 tsp yeast, dissolved in 1/4 cup warm water
1 cup of sour cream
2 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp salt

Mix the above in a bowl.

Then cut 1/2 pound of butter (16 Tbsp, two sticks) into 3 1/2 cups of flour, as for pie crust. Combine with liquids, mix well, and chill for several hours or overnight.

Divide the dough in half. Flour or sugar a board and roll out 1 packet of dough as a rectangle, about 8x14". Fold into 1/3 the size, the long way, slice into strips, twist, and put on baking sheets. Repeat with second packet. 

Let rise one hour at room temperature. Bake at 375 F for 10-12 minutes, cool.

Frost with glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar
1 Tbsp butter, melted and slightly cooled
1 tsp vanilla
3-4 Tbsp half-and-half or cream

Combine ingredients until smooth, adding enough dairy to reach desired consistency. Enjoy with coffee and tea. Return to a bygone era when the words “coffee break” were meaningful and full of healing power.