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Christmas Memories, Cookies, Candies, and Desserts.
CookingWithCarlo.com ^ | Nov. 26 2005 | Carlo3b, Dad, Chef, Author

Posted on 11/26/2005 7:32:00 AM PST by carlo3b

 

Christmas Memories, Cookies, Candies, and Desserts

For me, it was the official start of the Christmas season, seeing the matriarchs gather in coffee klatches and recipes exchanges. As a little tike, anything that signaled the approach of Christmas was enough to cause excitement around our home. Watching my great-grandmother summon the elderly women of our family and neighborhood, was a sure sign that big things were heating up in our little kitchen. These beautiful women were dignified and almost aristocratic in their black mourning dresses, with clouded stockings, and clumpy shoes. I can still recall the gentle scent of lavender and rose perfumes as they shuffled to their places around our modest kitchen table. Those mixtures of colognes and coffee were far from the only wonderful smells that began to fill our home and hearts at this glorious time of the year. Fabulous homemade Italian pastries were a right of passage for these gatherings. Baking for the clan was a near sacred honor that my great-grandmother cherished..

We were a typical nuclear family for those times. A working man, my great-uncle, a stay at home wife, my-great aunt, my retired great-grandmother, and great-grandfather, and of course yours truly. Our familial arrangement was not unique, most households had extended family members, and everyone had a place on the clan hierarchy. Women generally ruled the roost, and menfolk earned the bacon. Grandmothers, at least in my family, routinely prepared the meals. Wives raised the offspring and kept the house, meaning the housework and shopping, and those lucky enough to have grandpas, had the benefit of wisdom and history that could only come from invaluable, accumulated life experiences, and vivid recollections..

Our homes were mostly small walk-up apartments, located in the bowels of the inner city of Chicago. They were called, "cold water flats", meaning each apartment had to make their own hot water with a silver colored water heater tanks, located in a convenient corner of the kitchen. If you wanted hot water you had to turn it on and cautiously feel the sides of the tank to see how close it was becoming hot. It was surely crude, but efficient enough to accomplish the job so nobody complained.  However, you had to be mindful, not to forget to turn the tank off when the task was complete, the explosive consequences were all too frightening and frequent..

If you were lucky, as we were, you had heat furnished by a landlord in the form of cast iron coiled radiators. The heat was generated by coal fired furnaces, located in dark damp cellars. These subterranean dungeons were also called "the basement", which also housed whatever passed for a clothes washers in those days. I mostly remember those radiators, because they clanged from expanding heat filled pipes on cold winter mornings as we waited for the heat to raise to a reasonable warmth to venture out from under our heavy blankets. The radiators were sparsely placed, usually in the busiest areas of the home. We often warmed and dried clothes on this solitary heat source on frigid winter mornings. More than once I left my chilled trousers on too long, and burned myself on an overheated zipper. Chicago winters were especially cold, and flimsy windows were typically drafty. What was a blessing in the stifling summer heat, a window or skylight, was truly a detriment on cold winter nights.

A single low wattage light bulb hung conspicuously over the center of the white porcelain topped kitchen table. The light cord had a protruding plug for connecting a clothes iron. The light had an on-off string which dangled down low enough so the shortest member of the family could reach it. Every home had an icebox, with a small refrigerated compartment, and a square slot that held a cube of solid ice. The ice block needed to be replenished at least once a week by a gentleman who was aptly named, "the iceman". He carried the heavy block of ice 3 flights of stairs from his waterlogged horse drawn wagon. The gas cooking stove was a 4 burner antique, with an unregulated double oven that could only be lit with a stick match. The kitchen sink was one compartment with a long drain board. It had a single cold water faucet and a sturdy garden hose that connected it to the hot water tank. All of this was crude and simple by today's standards, but it was all that was needed to prepare at least two meals a day, a hardy breakfast, and a scrumptious 4 course, made-from-scratch dinner.

The homemade meals, complete with fresh bread were prepared with meticulous care each and every day, rain or shine. Needless to say, from this dim, sparsely equipped kitchen that made cooking and baking for our large family gatherings all that more remarkable. I learned to cook standing on a kitchen chair at that humble stove, under the watchful eye of my loving great-grandmother. She stood under 5 feet, but she was a giant to all that knew her. I think of her every day when I shamefully complain as the time comes to prepare my family meals at my fully equipped gourmet kitchen..

Our bathroom was small and simple. It had a top tank, gravity flushing toilet that sported a pull chain with a ivory handle. The lavatory was a tiny cold water basin that had circular chips from some unknown historic calamity, and a claw footed bathtub that was enormous, with a rubber plug on a chain.. The hot water had to be bucketed in from the kitchen sink, which was unfortunately located at the far end of the adjoining room. The bucket brigade took 2 people, 3 loads each. There was a small gas heater that furnished plenty of heat on the floor, but the small whitewashed window above the tub had a constant whistling from frigid air that seemed to be unobstructed and unending. It made standing for towel drying an olympic speed event..

The apartment had 2 small bedrooms, each only large enough to hold a double bed, and squatty art deco styled dresser. Each dresser was equipped with a mirror and on it's polished top lay assorted decorative perfume bottles and each had a matching sterling silver brush set, which was dutifully arranged at all times. The front room of the home was in reality, our living room, although we hardly ever lived there. The long narrow room held a large sofa, which doubled as my bed, a matching side chair, a huge floor model radio, and a mufti-bulb lamp with a oversized shade with dangling decorative fringe. An imposing chandelier hung prominently in the center of the vaulted ceiling. The floors were all buffed wood, and covered with assorted throw rugs that forever gathered under foot traffic. Our kitchen floor was covered with a patterned linoleum that had long ago began to show a well worn path. The bathroom was a beautifully tiled mosaic, in alternating black and white octagon shapes. At strategic locations were yellowed photographs of unknown origins in various shaped ornate frames, and on every flat surface aside from the kitchen were dozens of tiny knickknacks, and candles..

We lived in 4 simple rooms, but I never thought of it in those terms. In my mind it was a mansion, filled with love and devotion to one another. We were near penniless but rich with respectability and honor. We had all that we needed and enough left over to share with others. Everyone I knew loved me, and I loved and respected each of them. The family expected the best from me and I did my best to fulfill my duty to my good name, in their well deserved honor..

Just recalling these golden, olden days is a treasure in itself, because it brings me back to an era that laid the foundation of my life and that of my own family. It reminds me of the importance we placed and the respect we had for the generational roots and traditions that were instilled at an early age.  Those roots were planted deep and would ultimately shape my character. Cooking and baking wasn't just food in our home, it was our women's only gift to give. These recipe choosing assemblages were not called just to pick the heirloom cookies that were going to dominate their lives for the month leading up to Christmas. This was a time-honored task and was the solemn obligation our women placed in making their modest but treasured gifts so very special. Those dear aged women demonstrated their devotion to the family not by buying our presents, but by caring for us, the giving of themselves with their own loving hands..

The men of our family proudly gave up their youth, much too early in life and they did it voluntarily. They fought for their country on distant battlefields they couldn't even pronounce. They risked their lives to insure a freedom for a future they couldn't be sure they would live to enjoy. When they returned, they worked tirelessly to support a fine family of their own. These hardy men gave us an honorable name and a high bar in which to strive. They each raised respectable children that proved what they were made of.  Our forefathers scratched an indelible place in our history and in our hearts. They earned our love, our gratitude, and our everlasting respect..

The stalwarts of our family, our beautiful women, have given us our sense of worth, our humanity, the true meaning of love for family. Their selfless sacrifice, placed a high value on sharing, fairness, and a soft simple abiding love. Their talent was devotion, their legacy was in the future of the family traditions passed on in perpetuity.. It is in their name I pass many of my family recipes on to you, for you to share with your family, and hopefully with others far and wide.. Enjoy.. Carlo

MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND GOD BLESS YOU,
GOD BLESS AMERICA.



TOPICS: Chit/Chat; Food
KEYWORDS: christmas; cookbook; food; freepers; freerepublic; fun; gifts; holiday; legacycookbook; nostalgia
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To: jellybean

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
Walkin' in a winter wonderland

Gone away is the bluebird
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song as we go along
Walkin' in a winter wonderland

In the meadow we can build a snowman
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown
He'll say are you married
We'll so no man,
But you can do the job when you're in town

Later on we'll conspire
As we dream by the fire
To face unafraid
The plans that we made
Walkin' in a winter wonderland


441 posted on 12/09/2005 12:38:08 PM PST by jellybean (George Allen 2008)
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To: jellybean

You're too modest. When it comes to typing, editing or converting from HTML I'm all thumbs.
Spent an hour here last night trying to figure out how I accidentally clicked something with the mouse and changed the configuration of a whole screen. Called the help desk and they couln't figure it out either. Played around until I got it back. What a pain!


442 posted on 12/09/2005 1:38:30 PM PST by stanz (Those who don't believe in evolution should go jump off the flat edge of the Earth.)
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To: stanz

Ha! I've done that! I use the Opera browser. If I hit a certain combination of keys accidentally, it changes to full screen and I don't have any of the little doohickies at the top of the page. The first time it happened I didn't know what I did...it tooke me a while to figure it out. Frustrating!


443 posted on 12/10/2005 4:54:27 AM PST by jellybean (George Allen 2008)
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To: stanz; christie; carlo3b; michigander; gonzo
I don't know if the following story is true or not. I hope so!
Wishing you all a blessed Christmas :)

~ Christmas Miracle ~

I just had one of the most amazing experiences of my life, and wanted to share it with my family and dearest friends:

I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die - I barely managed to coast, crusing into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn't even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the "quickie mart" building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a Gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay.

When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.

I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying," so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, "And you were praying?" That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, "He heard you, and He sent me."

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald's and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City. Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent Jan 1, and finally in desperation had finally called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there.

So she packed up everything she owned in the car She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there.

I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, "So, are you like an angel or something?"

This definitely made me cry. I said, "Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people."

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, you guessed it, when I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem. I'll put it in the shop tomorrow to check, but I suspect the mechanic won't find anything wrong.

Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings...

Psalms 55:22 "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved."

This prayer is powerful and prayer is one of the best gifts we receive.

Here is the prayer:

"Father, I ask You to bless my children, grandchildren, friends, relatives and email buddies reading this right now. Show them a new revelation of your love and power. Holy Spirit, I ask You to minister to their spirit at this very moment. Where there is pain, give them Your peace and mercy. Where there is self doubt, release a renewed confidence through Your grace, In Jesus' precious name. Amen."

When Satan is knocking at your door, simply say, "Jesus, could You please get that for me?"

Being blessed is GOOD...being HIGHLY FAVORED is best! Don't settle!


444 posted on 12/10/2005 6:48:09 AM PST by jellybean (George Allen 2008)
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To: jellybean

BTT


445 posted on 12/10/2005 8:22:13 AM PST by varina davis
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To: jellybean

Thanks for keeping the Pilot Lite going on this thread...


446 posted on 12/10/2005 4:01:26 PM PST by tubebender (You can't make Chicken Salad from Chicken Bleep...)
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To: tubebender


447 posted on 12/10/2005 9:36:01 PM PST by jellybean (George Allen 2008)
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To: carlo3b

Cindy's Kind of Old-Fashioned Fruitcake

2 cups raisins
1 cup golden raisins
1 cup of craisins (dried cranberries)
2 cups of pecan halves or almond slices
(or 1 cup of pecans; 1 cup of almonds)
1 c Halved red candied cherries
1 c Halved green candied cherrie
RUM/BRANDY OR RUM OR BRANDY
OR APPLE CIDER (See note below.)
2 cups of unbleached flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. allspice
1/8 t salt
1 cup of butter (I use lite butter or Take Control vegetable spread.)
1 c Packed brown sugar
3 Eggs (I use Egg Beaters.)
2 tablespoons of unsulphured molasses
2 tsp. of Vanilla
OPTIONAL: I grate 1 large orange and add the grated orange rinds to the mix.

NOTE: I put the raisins, golden raisins, craisins in a bowl the day before and
cover the mix with liquid. Some people prefer just rum or just brandy. I like
to use half of each which equals about 2 cups of liquid. The last couple of years I have used Martinelli Apple Cider instead of alcohol and it is a great taste, too.

Directions.

Let the raisins, golden raisins sit in a bowl with liquid covering it at least overnight.
I like to have this mix set for 12-20 hours.

Now, get a giant mixing bowl or pot and pour the raisin mix and liquid in it.
Add all of your liquid ingredients.
Mix well.
Add all the rest of your ingredients.
Mix well.
Lightly grease your 2 or 3 loaf pans.
Pour mixture into it.
Cover and refrigerate over night.

Preheat over at 250 degrees.
Take your covering off the loaf pans
and slide those loaf pans into the over.
Cook 3 to 3 1/2 hours.

Note: You can tell when fruit cakes are done
if you take a sharp knife chop stick; poke it
down the middle; pull it up and it comes out
clean with no unbaked batter on it.

These fruitcakes freeze well until ready to use.


448 posted on 12/11/2005 2:47:38 PM PST by Cindy
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To: Guenevere

I like fruitcake also but you can have my share of mincemeat pie.


449 posted on 12/11/2005 3:08:31 PM PST by tob2 (Old Fossil and Proud of It!)
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To: ken5050; jellybean
There are two major differences between the ubiquitous pesto you are likely to find in your local Italian restaurant and real Ligurian pesto: the quality of basil and the use of butter. Unfortunately, there is not much you can do about the basil unless you are willing to move to Liguria, or sneak into my backyard.. ;). The Liguria basil is so delicate and aromatic that it's hailed all over Italy as the first choice for pesto. Luckily, the butter is a much easier improvement. It's a myth that Italians don't use butter.Bahahhahahha - what do you think makes pasta taste so good! Pesto made with both oil and butter is creamy rather than greasy, and has a better balance of flavors.

Liguria Basil Pesto

1) Combine basil, pine nuts, garlic, and cheese in a food processor and puree scrapping down the bowl several times.
2) With the motor running, slowly drizzle in the oil to make a thick, creamy mixture.
3) Move the pesto to a bowl and stir in butter with a spoon until completely integrated.
4) Season to taste with salt. Serve immediately or refrigerate for up to a day.
Stir before serving as the top layer turns brown very quickly.

Makes enough for 8 first course pasta servings

Freezing Pesto
Note 1:
The influx of wonderful Asian foods and markets in and around our cities have made so many ingredients available that were here-to-fore, difficult and/or expensive to acquire. Basil, is definitely one of the herbs that we have in common, in Asians and American fare . I find many fresh herbs available in Asian markets at 1/3 of the price of local grocers. I grow Liguria seed basil in my own herb garden, and in our Texas climate it will grow almost all year, but in a pinch, it's good to know were to find it all year long.. 

However, do not freeze basil alone, as it will turn black. You can however put the basil into a blender, add a small amount of oil, and put in small plastic containers, cover with oil and use in your foods as needed. This is a form of pesto. You can add garlic, chives and other seasonings to make an assortment of Pesto. They will keep up to 2 years in the freezer.

Note 2: Pesto is very perishable and should be eaten as quickly as possible (ideally within a few hours), but it freezes beautifully. If you want to freeze a batch, puree basil, pine nuts, and oil and freeze this mixture in a zip lock bag. Defrost in the fridge overnight or at room temperature for a few hours (just don't put it in warm water or you'll cook the basil.) Right before serving, stir in cheese, mashed garlic, and butter.


450 posted on 12/12/2005 2:32:43 PM PST by carlo3b (http://www.CookingWithCarlo.com,)
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To: carlo3b

Thank you so much for this recipe!


451 posted on 12/12/2005 9:08:40 PM PST by jellybean (George Allen 2008)
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To: carlo3b

I'm gonna try the butter next time, but my god, Carlo..you omitted ONE crucial step..the pine nuts have to be toasted first...just sprinkle them on a cookie sheet..pop into a 250 degree oven for about 15 minutes..

BTW..why do you chop the garlic cloves if they're going in the food processor?...(g)


452 posted on 12/13/2005 7:18:41 AM PST by ken5050 (Ann Coulter needs to have children ASAP to pass on her gene pool....any volunteers?)
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To: ken5050

ON THE NET...


FreeRepublic.com - Keyword: COOKIES
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/keyword?k=cookies


453 posted on 12/13/2005 12:15:14 PM PST by Cindy
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To: ken5050

Oops, sorry Ken.
That post was meant for ALL.


454 posted on 12/13/2005 12:15:50 PM PST by Cindy
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Basil pesto recipe above: Copyright © 2005, Yelena Malyutin Rennie. All rights reserved.
http://www.foodadventures.org/recipes/condiments/pesto.html


455 posted on 12/16/2005 6:09:25 AM PST by steelcurtain
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To: carlo3b

Christmas cookie bump
....


456 posted on 12/21/2005 6:31:24 AM PST by Stand Watch Listen
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To: Cindy; carlo3b; All
Is there any life left in this Annual Food Thread.

Merry Christmas!!! Cindy, Carlo,All...

457 posted on 12/25/2005 7:57:56 AM PST by tubebender (You can't make Chicken Soup from Chicken Poop...)
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To: tubebender

Christmas blessings to you tubender and a joyous New Year to you.


458 posted on 12/26/2005 2:14:53 AM PST by Cindy
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To: SuzanneWeeks
Suzanne, Your recipe is almost exactly the recipe, nothing original by me, that I use for my own cornbread, which is moist and with a fabulous texture.. The difference is the skimmed milk, but also may be the age of your ingredients, and certainly the type of shortening..

Many of the bogus recipes that have popped up recently reflect the inexperience of the faux chefs or diet innovator with diet junk such as, skimmed milk in baking (lacking fat which would absolutely lessen the moisture in the outcome), but also using the watered down vegetable oil, and not the heavier corn oil.. Substituting known carbs, or fattening oils, sound clever but they often defeat the one reason that we bake fresh foods, because it should taste better and contain know quality ingredients..

WE have screwed up our diets with this stuff and discourage folks from cooking homemade.. If something is diet friendly but leaves the eater unsatisfied and hungry, usually leading to snacking or frustration, why do it?.. For heaven sake, Eat good and walk it off.. That will be so much better for the waistline as well as your heart, not to mention your self-esteem.. LOL

 
A Great Cornbread

    * 1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
    * 3/4 tsp. salt
    * 3/4 cup cornmeal
    * 1-1/4 cups whole milk
    * 2 tsp. baking powder
    * 1/4 cup corn shortening
    * 1/3 cup sugar

Preheat oven to 400°F.
1) Combine the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, sugar and salt in a medium bowl.
2) Add the milk, shortening and egg and mix only until all the ingredients are well combined.
3) Pour the batter into a greased 8x8-inch pan.
Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until the top is golden brown.
Let the cornbread cool slightly before slicing it with a sharp knife into 9 pieces.


459 posted on 01/11/2006 7:42:24 AM PST by carlo3b (http://www.CookingWithCarlo.com,)
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To: carlo3b
Thank you so much Carlo. I knew you could help!
I will try it again this weekend as I am making Chili :) Now that (Chili) I have down pat. :)
Thanks again!
Suz
460 posted on 01/11/2006 8:13:05 AM PST by SuzanneWeeks (There is no one more militant than an antiwar protester)
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