Baker's Secret...

Mom had four big brothers, Eddy, Walter, Tom and John. Before the war, Mom's brothers worked a farm outside town and Mom left her school career after grade eleven to cook and clean for the boys. She could barely open a can and housework wasn't really her strong suit. Her own Mother lost her Mum when she was just seven years old and learned the fine art of homemaking at a very young age, so Grandma didn't provide much tutelage for my Mom. She thought her daughter would be cooking and cleaning soon enough. So this was quite a jump-in-with-both-feet venture for a fun-loving girl, especially with four hungry brothers to feed.

But this feet-first indoctrination paid off. Although she never thought so, Mom became an excellent cook and prepared wonderful meals for her family. Most often, if she wasn't outside in the yard, or hunched over her trusty old Pfaff sewing away, she was in the kitchen whistling a happy tune or singing a nonsense song while she cooked something up. Sometimes she would sing about the ingredients in a recipe, or it might be something about the cat or dog, or maybe even one of us. Mom enjoyed her own accompaniment. Once in a while she would even belt out a tune on her harmonica with the dog singing soprano or sit down at the piano and play a rendition of "The Happy Farmer'. Mom's cheer became an ingredient in everything she did and her family benefited.

There was nothing like coming home from school to the smell of warm cookies, hot cinnamon buns, or fresh baked bread. I loved hot breadsticks dipped in butter as an after-school snack. Pies were Mom's specialty; apple, peach, raisin, pumpkin, blueberry, saskatoon, black currant and my personal favorite, rhubarb custard. She made the finest, flakiest, melt-in-your-mouth pastry I've ever tasted. I can remember my brother eating a whole raisin pie in one sitting. Her eldest grandson loved her bran muffins so much he renamed them "Gran Muffins". Then there were the main courses like, cabbage rolls, sauerkraut and spare ribs, beef streudles, left-over turkey stirfry, skillet burgers, sweet and sour spare ribs, macaroni and cheese with homemade croutons, roast beef and yorkshire pudding, just to name a few. The roaster she used made the most perfectly seasoned gravy ever. Her grandkids even called it 'Granny's Special Sauce'. 

I inherited her roasting pan and enamel-coated cast-iron dutch oven when she moved from her home into assisted- living. I thought I had it made. Finally I had the magic bullet I needed to become a wiz in the kitchen. Sadly, neither the roaster nor the dutch oven were willing to reveal any of their secrets. Even the few recipes I had of Mom's didn't end up tasting as good as they did when she prepared them. I finally gave up on the roaster, but the scarred old dutch oven makes a decent chili, a hearty beef stew, and a savory ginger carrot soup. I guess nothing tasting like 'what Mom used to make' makes remembering it that much better. Maybe it was Mom's special brand of cheer that made everything she prepared so delicious. If that was her secret there's really no replicating it. I don't have a piano and I can't play the harmonica. I guess I can try whistling a happy tune or singing a silly song about the furkids and see what happens.

The rest is pixie dust...