Doldrums is a mariner’s term for windless conditions that
becalm sailing vessels. For many, icy Januaries trigger a metaphorical emotional
state. To help the winter-bound outlast every new year’s first two months, weather-induced
blahs require creative solutions.
A friend inadvertently brightened this normally dreary
season when she gifted me a copy of our church’s 1971 cookbook. Afterwards, I
spent hours examining old recipes and familiarizing myself with cooking preferences of women I’ve recently met
as well as their mother’s who’ve passed. In short time, wimpy spirits vanished.
Instead of longing for spring, exploring new ingredients and ways to cook
familiar ones energized me.
Decades ago, churchwomen in Meade gave me my very first hometown
cookbook as a shower gift. Sorting through it to plan meals for my new husband taught
me much about these friends’ culinary practices. In addition to following their
instructions to bake irresistible breads and savory casseroles, I discovered a
sour cream blackberry pie so delicious family still requests it at holidays.
Over time, my collection multiplied. Favorites include worn books
with spidery handwriting noting someone’s Aunt Gertie’s favorite meatloaf and
similar comments. Despite loving these tried and true treasures, I don’t ignore
brand new editions full of gastronomic delights.
I find amazing batter-spattered
texts while attending garage sales and auctions. Online ads offer the best
avenue to seek specific titles. It took patience to find an out-of-print People Chow copy, but one eventually turned
up. Newspaper ads and church bulletins highlight newcomers hot off the press.
Local collections display favorite regional foods with
recipes unique to ethnic settlements. Area books frequently include
instructions for making homemade sauerkraut, pickled chicken feet, blood
sausage, or bean and noodle soup. A treasure I bought in Wilson contains familiar
bierock recipes but also suggests a half-dozen ways to make kolaches and tomato
noodles unique to Bohemian cooks.
A New Mexico purchase intrigued me with recipes requiring beef
stomach as well as 1000 uses for red and green chilies. An addition from a
mining town in Idaho offers pasty (not pastry) recipes to make meat pies that miners
carried to work inside the nearby mountain. It’s also clear that huckleberries
are the fruit of choice for jelly and pie makers in that town.
Speaking of fruits, few prairie cookbooks fail to include
more than one way to make sandhill plum and chokecherry jellies or fruit
leathers. Cooks can also find guidelines to prepare pheasant, venison, and
occasionally raccoon, possum, or rattlesnake. Good local cookbooks explain how
to make indigenous ingredients edible.
Ironically, recipe ingredients may be the same from one town
to another, but titles can vary. A nearby village listed the same ingredients
and instructions for concocting a dish residents called party potatoes. A burg
down the road labeled the same item funeral potatoes. Guess it relates to when
you eat it.
For a month that began uninspired, it’s a wonderland of
possibility now. More than a dozen new recipes beckon. First, I’ll explore a locally
favorite butterhorn roll formula. The tidy note written next to a previous
owner’s favorite promises “A delicious batter for sweet rolls as well as dinner
rolls.” I can’t wait to find out.
Yum! What a delicious way to cure the blahs!
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