Recipe with a Story
This recipe came to me in a roundabout manner from Laurie Braga Jordan, who wrote:
“Hi Fay. I was talking to Carolyn McNellis the other day, and she thought you might be interested in this recipe with [her] story.”
Carolyn writes: My five children all attended Wheaton Warrenville South High School. They were very active in sports. (I still have two in the district now as teachers!)
For several years, I hosted the weekly dinner for the wrestling team. The favorite dessert for the wrestlers while in season was Marshmallow Crispy Squares.
Our granddaughter Sarah visited us last month. She lives in Ft. Collins, CO. We were happy she chose to spend time with the family.
During her stay, we went to our daughter Debbie’s home in Elburn. She served us Taco Soup. It was great—a perfect soup for football or any other gathering. Not too spicy, just right.
Give it a try.
Emily Walker heard my plea for help last week and sent in this great story and recipe.
Hi Fay
I loved your humorous admission at the end of your column last Friday, confessing that you have run out of recipes. I don’t know if you still need more, but here’s one that is definitely a go-to recipe for me.
My mom got this recipe at her bridal shower, and it quickly became one of her favorites. I grew up making it as well, and as soon as I got married I asked her for a copy of it.
This is another recipe from my friend Carolyn McNellis. It started out one way and now it is Carolyn's way. I warned you all last week that Carolyn was clever and artistic, and she is normally not a fan of hard and fast measurements. Well, this time we have measurements. We also have something I had never been acquainted with—steel-cut oats. So, here goes.
This recipe gets a little personal story from me along with it.
For all these many years when someone asks us how many children we have, we usually respond with “We only have four.” And the question that comes back is, “What do you mean only four?” Then we explain that the majority of our friends from the olden days all have four or more (like up to 12).
When my brother and I were little, Mom would take us to North Avenue beach in Chicago. That is, when she could scrape together the carfare, about 26 cents for the three of us both ways. We would leave about 10 a.m. and come home around 4 p.m.
Sometimes when we arrived home, the first thing we would do was cover our mother’s shoulders and face with Noxema. Mom was the fair-skinned one in the family, my brother and I just got darker and darker.
When we woke up in the morning, if Mom was already busy cutting up veggies and boiling Creamette noodles, we knew we were going to the beach. That way supper would be cooling in the fridge while we were frolicking on the beach. We would get home in time to get all cleaned up before Dad came home from work.
When Cathy Kott discovered this recipe, she was working at Western Electric Co. in the building that is now AT&T on Ferry Rd. in Warrenville.
Cathy moved here in 1977. She liked putting down roots in a semi-rural community. She decided to make time in her life for active friends who supported each other.
She was offered a chance to give up a Chicago Loop job with a several-hour daily commute if she would like to gain that time and stay in Warrenville’s Ma Bell complex.
She says this cheesecake has been passed on for a generation because it goes well alone or as a part of a table of taste treats. It was great for the group birthday parties thrown by numerous departments at work.
Remember, a one-pan desert that goes well with a celebration!
Sandy Klimowski has gotten into the swing of things. This is her second recipe, and we look forward to more of them from her and from you, the rest of our faithful readers.
Sandy’s Story
My husband has discovered cooking and enjoys it. My father sent him a card with a recipe enclosed. The card read, “You love to cook, I love to eat, make this for me.”
He made it, and we transported it in the slow cooker to Dad’s home. We all enjoyed it. Dad is now looking for more recipes for my husband to make.
Yes, I am back. Took a sabbatical, as did all you wonderful readers
I am in desperate need of some recipes along with their stories. I have been cajoling church members, and Sandy Klimowski came through with a great old story.
My grandmother’s sister’s family often went cabin camping in the summer. One year when I was about eight years old we went up for the day. All I remember from that day was grandma’s sister (Aunt Lena) cooking something that smelled wonderful—Krautfleckerl. I asked for some, then some more, and then some more. It was wonderful. Now it is something I make, and still love today. Oh, by the way, we never went to their cabin again. I guess I ate out our welcome.
