I love those two words put together – Easter time equates to me, green grass, pretty dresses, yummy ham, cream pies, sunshine, and eggs – dyed, chocolate, deviled, pickled and plastic filled! I remember being very excited about my Easter dresses, hats, and white gloves! Loved the gloves, I still love wearing them to events when I can pull it off! Still love a darling dress too - I have a collection of retro ones - and am always charmed by a sweet sundress!
Our Easter basket tradition was a little different than most, as opposed to each of us five kids having our own basket, we all shared a very large one. It was mostly filled with jellybeans, yet some years we got a chocolate bunny, silly putty and/or a comic book. I always envied the kids who got to “find” their own basket on Easter morning filled with lot of chocolate eggs, kites, bubble bath, and such. To me; however, our yummy dinner and the pie easily made up for our lackluster Easter basket.
Church was always special…I remember it as beautiful; filled with Easter lilies and everyone dressed in their Easter best! At that age, I remember church being especially long, when all I could think about was the dinner and the Easter egg hunt that awaited me at home! Now, I appreciate Easter and how my faith has always inspired and renewed each season, and how stirred I am to do His work with love.
But, food for me was, and is always, my favorite part of any holiday, and Easter is no exception. My family had a traditional ham marinated in Vernors ginger ale and adorned with pineapple rings and cloves, creamy scalloped potatoes, orange-pineapple Jello mold, peas and carrots, seven-layer salad, pickled and deviled eggs and of course, pie! My mother usually made cream pies for Easter - lemon and coconut cream were family favorites!
In the picture shown, circa 1966 or so, my family is posing at my dear Aunt Margie’s farm on a lovely Easter Sunday! I smile every time I see this picture, as it was obviously taken before today’s slick cameras. The “hatchet head” was a common problem for many picture takers back then, especially my Aunt Margie. She was always cutting someone’s head off, such as my poor daddy’s! I also love this picture because it shows how everyone got dressed up back then! I am not sure why dressing up for events has fallen out of favor, but I sure wish people would respect all the special events in our lives and dress up for them.
Let’s remember Easter, as we did in the past and make it lovely with a grateful heart, an inspired spirit, a yummy dinner, a delicious pie, and/or a new dress or tie! :)
Eat pie, love life, Linda xoxoxxo
“If ever I go looking for my heart's desires again, I won't look any further than my own backyard.” -- L. Frank Baum
I am not sure there is a more revered word than “home”. For me, no matter how tiring, frustrating, or melancholy my day might be, when I drive into my old farmhouse's driveway, my heart is filled with a soft and joyful peace.
Home is where our hearts stand still with tranquility, regardless of brick or mortar. Just the mere thought of home takes us back to a world of love and serenity – where all is right with the world.
Home is magic - where Santa leaves presents, where the tooth fairy leaves change, where birthday parties are celebrated with balloons and cake, and where you magically grow from a baby in the nursery into a teenager in a bunk-bed!
Home is the backyard - where hamburgers are grilled, snow forts are built, Easter eggs are hidden, sprinklers are run through, where lightning bugs are caught, and beloved dogs sleep under big shade trees.
Home is food – where meatloaf and goulash are what's for dinner, pie and ice cream are homemade treats, where after-school cookies are a must, and where families linger over delicious Sunday chicken dinners for hours!
Home is family and friends – where eating meals together is a family tradition, where Dad reads the paper in his chair, where Mom is fixing dinner in the kitchen, where naps are taken in front of fireplaces, where family picnics and barbeques are held on the weekends, and where childhood friends are over constantly to play the day away!
Home is our destiny…our dream…our quest. - It is a place to go where comfort and love live forever. It is a rock solid place of reassurance and acceptance. It is where our parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, children, and friends are waiting for us with open arms and smiling faces. Home is where all of us belong.
And nothing, nothing takes you home, like a piece of homemade pie!
Eat pie, love home!!!! xoxolinda
Winter's dark dinner hour always reminds me of my mother's potato soup; as it filled our brick home with the comforting aroma of onions, potatoes, and cream. It was clearly the respite of the day for all seven of us, especially, when she made a big pan of hot corn bread to go along with it.
While growing up, I remember on weekends she would make a huge pot of her creamy soup. It would simmer on the back burner of our old fifties stove all day long, with occasional stirs from my mother as she passed by. When my brothers, twin sister, and I would come into the house after a day of sledding or ice skating, the soup was patiently waiting for us to warm our bones and comfort out tummies.
It was a staple in her menu planning, especially in the long, frosty winters of Michigan. As an adult, I understand why she made it so much, for it was cost effective for a big family, she always had the ingredients on hand, and she didn't have to think about it. For her, making that soup was like pin curling her hair, she could do it in her sleep, while grading papers, feeding the dog, and chopping onions. Mothers are the masters of multi-tasking. Basically, it was cheap, easy and delicious, and what more could you ask for in a meal for a working mother of five?
I must admit, I did tire of the soup's frequency on the back burner of our kitchen stove. As a child, I didn't appreciate its hearty, creamy goodness as I do today…and not because it wasn't delicious, but because it was redundant. As I got older, I always stirred a little Velveeta cheese into mine to make it perfect. To this day, I do like my potato soup with a little more flavor, so when I make her recipe, I always add some fresh herbs, wine and cheese to enhance its rock-solid base.
My mother was known for her potato soup, as she made it for family, friends, and strangers throughout her years. It went to church potlucks, sick families, mourning friends, and was always the favorite for large family gatherings and Sunday dinners in the fall and winter. Everyone always loved it, appreciated it and felt loved and comforted by my Mommy's Potato Soup – how perfect is that?
Eat and make soup and feel love. --Linda
Creamy Potato Gouda & Rosemary Soup
4 Tbsp. butter
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1/4 C. white wine or water
1 Tbsp. fresh rosemary chopped very fine
4 large leeks cleaned and roughly chopped – white part only
1 small onion, chopped fine
½ tsp. garlic
3 medium Yukon Gold peeled potatoes chopped in 1” cubes
5 C. chicken stock - and more if needed - to thin soup
1 C. heavy cream or half and half
1 C. of grated Gouda or white cheddar cheese, plus some for garnish
¼ tsp. pepper
salt to taste
fresh green onion or chives
crumbled maple bacon
In soup pot, cook butter, oil, leeks, onions, wine, and garlic until tender on medium heat. Add potatoes and chicken stock, simmering on medium heat until potatoes are soft and cooked through. Lower heat to low and add cream, cheese, pepper and salt to taste. Garnish with green onions or fresh chives, crumbled maple bacon and grated cheese.
I love, love, love this time of year. The spirits of the holidays are thick in the air and you can feel it the people, the places, and especially the food. Nothing can compare to the holiday treats and all of the baking wonders that have come out of family kitchens for generations. I know in our family I grew up enveloped with Christmas baking traditions.
My dear grandmother from West Virginia would send a much-anticipated frozen chocolate pecan pie up to our family every year, and my sweet mother would make various pies, cheesecake, cookies, stained glass hard candy, fudge and caramels for family and friends to enjoy. I remember my mother would always let me and my brothers and twin sister help make the holiday treats, and for me, this was utopia. My memories of this time are lovely, but are probably a bit embellished by age.
Most definitely, Christmas cookie decorating was our family’s favorite baking tradition. Back in the late sixties and early seventies at Christmas time, I remember our family happily listening to Nat and Bing while snow gently drifted out our tiny, turquoise kitchen window. I remember my dear mommy somewhat patiently leading us through another treasured holiday tradition while my daddy read the newspaper in the living room oblivious to the commotion.
The kitchen was chaotic and crowded with all five of us kids crammed in, anxious to keep the Christmas cookie decorating tradition alive and well. Every year it was exactly the same, siblings fighting over cookies cutters, cookies decorated quaintly and imperfectly and kids sneaking cookie dough from our big brown, chipped mixing bowl with joyous giggles echoing throughout our brick home. Despite the cramped space, spats, and mess, the time together as a family was perfect. Not perfect in the real sense of the word, but perfect because we were together and it was our McComb family tradition.
I implore all of us to continue your own family traditions or start new ones, for it is paramount that our time-honored traditions continue for our children and our children’s children. For there is nothing better than having the magic in our hearts at Christmastime as we recall warm, sweet memories of delicious holiday treats, loving family traditions and Santa Claus!
Eat pie, and treasure holiday traditions... xoxoxo Linda