You Can't Go Home Again

There's a saying, "You can't go home again."  This was brought "home" to me (no pun intended) a few years ago when we were traveling to Canada for the birth of our first grandchild.  On the way, we traveled through my parents' hometown and my birthplace.  As we were traveling, I reminised aloud with my wife and son about the summers I had spent there as a child.  My brothers and I would spend one month every summer with my grandparents as I was growing up.  I remembered the trips to our great-grandparents a little over a block from my grandparents to pick blackberries or swing in the glidder that my great-grandfather had built.  I recalled the fascination of watching my great-grandmother taking a spool of thread or crochet yarn and creating everything from bookmarks to tablecloths or bedspreads.  I invisioned the quilt frame that hung suspended from the ceiling.

The walks to the Bramble Park, just five blocks away and lazy afternoons sitting on the porch visiting with my grandparents.  A multitude of memories flew through my mind as we approached to neighborhood I remembered in my youth.  Unfortunately, nothing was the same.  We drove passed my grandparents' home and were a block away before we realized it.  When we came back by, I noticed everything that was different.  The large oak tree in the backyard where I watched my grandfather feed squirrels was gone, as was one of the oaks in the front.  The house was barely visible from the road, although it was only twenty-five feet away.  As we drove through the neighborhood, we noticed other things that had changed.  The "hickory nut tree" across the street in the yard where my family experienced a tornado jump over the house was gone.  Gone also were the crepe-myrtles  in my great-grandparents yard.  Nothing was the same.  We couldn't go home again.

The only thing that didn't change were our memories.  Fortunately, many of those memories centered around the home and particularly the table.  The meals we shared with loved ones.  These meals and recipes bring back the memories of a life time, and for the moments that we taste them again, they allow us to relive the joy and peace that those moments recall.

The purpose of this blog was and is to bring back those memories - not just to me but to you.  Perhaps you have a favorite memory tied up in a recipe or meal that you would be willing to share.  If so, email me at: captiveinthekitchen@gmail.com.

I hope to hear from some of you soon.

Apple Crumble

Here's another quick and easy desert.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup sifted flour
3/4 cup non-fat dry milk
1/3 cup butter or margarine (I prefer butter)
3 tables sugar
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp cinnamon
3 cups sliced apples (about 4 large apples)
(optional: 1/4 cup sugar is apples are tart)

Mix flour, non-fat dry milk, sugar, nutmeg, salt and cinnamon.
Cut in butter with pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture is crumbly.
Arrange apples in shallow well-greased baking dish. (If apples are tart, sprinkle with 1/4 cup sugar)
Sprinkle apples with flour mixture.
Cover and bake in moderate oven (350 degrees) about 25 minutes, or until apples are tender.
Remove cover and bake 10 minutes longer or until crumbs are brown.

Peanut Patties

A candy that appeared regularly in my wife's home was her mother's homemade peanut patties.  They usually were found at Christmas time, and were considered a part of the season.  I hope yo enjoy this confection as much as we have over the years.

Instructions:


3 cups sugar
1 cup water
1 cup white syrup
Combine in saucepan and bring to boil over medium flame.
Add:
1 lb (3 1/4 cups) raw Spanish Peanuts
6 drops red food coloring (Don't use green food coloring.  My mother-in-law made a batch at Christmas a number of years ago.  She thought it would be festive.  They were pretty and green before they set, but afterward the green turned more grey.  It didn't affect the flavor but no one ate them.)
Cook until a small amount forms a hard ball in small amount of water (250 degrees on candy thermometer)
Remove from burner.
Add:
1/4 cup margarine
pinch salt
Beat until mixture begins to thicken.  As my mother-in-law puts it, "Stir until your arm falls off."
When it begins to pull away from the pan,  pour onto greased baking sheet or metal pie pans.
If you're too slow you end up with a giant patty in the pan.
Cool.

Cut or break candy into pieces.