A Cooking Legacy and some Tasty Raspberry Bars

"The key to enjoying cooking is embracing simplicity. Simplicity in food is honesty, warmth, pleasure, modesty, even fairness. Simplicity in cooking is ease and grace . . . Simplicity . . . is not a compromise but a treasure." ~Mark Bittman

I grew up in a home with a mother who was a simple cook. In fact you could always tell which day of the week it was by what we were having for supper. On Monday we always had leftovers from Sunday dinner. It might be cold ham or pork, or maybe even a hearty chicken soup. If we were really lucky we got pot pie. Tuesday we normally got hamburgers and so on it went right through the week . . . spaghetti night, pork chop night . . .

Friday nights were hot dog nights but my mother had a wonderful way of doing them. We had an electric waffle iron/grill and the buns were always buttered and toasted on that. Then she would split the hot dog almost all the way through all the way down it's length and pull it open like a book and then it would get the grill treatment as well, so that is was nicely browned on all surfaces. Served in that buttery toasted bun, with fried onions, mustard and relish, her hot dogs were absolute bliss. Everyone wanted to be invited to our house for hotdog night, I kid you not!



On Saturday nights more often than not we had home baked beans or a stew of some sort, maybe even chili con carne, which was something she discovered in my late teens. Her beans are legendary. She always began them the night before and then would get up really early on Saturday morning to get them on. She'd pick through them, discarding any that were no good and then they'd go into one of her big wear ever aluminum pots. They'd be brought to the boil with a little bit of soda added to the water. She'd simmer them until they were done to her preference, which usually meant her picking a few out of the pot with a fork and blowing on them until the skins split. That meant they were ready for the bean crock. Into the bean crock they'd go along with some molasses, onion, dry mustard, cider vinegar, brown sugar and a splosh of tomato ketchup. The crowning glory would be a piece of salt pork that she'd push down into them just before she popped on the lid and then they'd be put into the oven where they would bake all day, tantalizing us with their smell until we could barely stand it any longer . . . they smelled so delicious. Sometimes we'd have them with some baked ham and scalloped potatoes, just like they served them down at the local church suppers, but more often than not we'd just have a nice big plate of homemade beans with lots of bread and butter. Heaven on earth. Let me just add as well . . . you have not lived unless you have eaten a bean sandwich . . . yes . . . cold baked beans mashed between two slices of buttered bread . . . delicious!

There were seasonal treats as well. Easter always meant that there would be a tasty big pot of her pea soup, made with the leftover bone from our Easter Ham. Thanksgiving meant at least a turkey pot pie or two and a delicious pot of turkey soup. Christmas meant the same . . . except that Christmas was the one time of year that her baking abounded and the larder would be full to bursting with cookies and cakes . . . date squares, feather squares, her delicious war cake, a fruit cake and a mince pie. She made a large one, not tiny tarts.



In late spring . . . early summer . . . she'd drag us out to the strawberry fields where we would be forced to pick berries for what seemed like too many long hot hours under the sun. She would fill the freezer with the tasty red jewels and we would stuff ourselves silly with strawberry shortcakes and pies. In late summer it would be the wild blueberries, which we would pick by the ice cream bucket full. These too would go into the freezer, but not before she had treated us to a homemade blueberry pie or two or three. During corn season we would stuff ourselves with fresh picked corn on the cob, served up with lots of butter and salt. We'd eat corn until we could eat no more, trying to see who could eat the most . . . butter dripping off our chins and fingers . . . nothing on earth tasted better . . . not then . . . not since.

My mother's old wooden cooking spoon has absorbed the smell of many a year, and no matter how many times it has been washed and scrubbed, time's compelling odour abounds. The smell of garlic, onion and tomato paste permeates it and whispers golden memories of evenings shared with loved ones . . . now miles apart.



There was nothing fancy about any of her cooking. It was good, plain, simple, honest food . . . cooked simply and served up family style. Nobody went away from the table hungry and all three of us children look back on those meals with fondness and tender longings . . . It was the food and cooking style of my family's women . . . the style of my mother's mother and her mother before her . . . a delicious legacy sent down through the generations and culminating in me.

At work when there is a dinner party I cook fancy things, complicated things. Dishes that take hours of preparation and countless steps to execute. At home, I confess . . . I do things a lot simpler and I always have done, although I do admit to being somewhat fancier and a bit more adventurous than my own mother was. Basically though, it's still simple home cooking. Todd wouldn't have it any other way, and neither would I. I like to use good, simple, honest ingredients . . . fresh free range organic eggs, Danish butter, free range meats and poultry. I try to cook with a conscience and a sense of responsibility that fits within my budget. I love to entertain and we try to have people over to dinner at least once or twice a month. I serve them what I hope is tasty, well prepared and simple food, served with no pretensions and prepared with love. Nobody ever seems to go away unhappy.

I miss those days when my table was filled to the brim every night with a passel of children and their friends . . . when a pot of mashed potatoes required half of a 10 pound bag and a huge pot to cook them in. There was lots of noise and friendly banter, and lots of good and simple food. I really hope that my children have wonderful memories and favourite dishes that they can remember from their childhood's spent at my kitchen table and meals shared together with family. My old blue binder is stuffed to overflowing with my many recipes collected through the years, each one tried and true, each recipe holding a delicious memory of time spent with loved ones and days gone by . . . perhaps this is the book I should publish . . . the one that would mean the most.

Well, we had a three way tie on my Make Me Bake poll this week! That has never happened before. I will endeavor to bake all three. It didn't hurt that we had company last evening for a bible study group and so I had to provide some refreshments at the end. I was able to bake two of them for that. I'll share the first one I did with you today and the other's will follow. In the meantime I shall have to put up another poll and make the next one a bit more challenging!!!



*Raspberry and White Chocolate Fudge Brownies*
Makes 16

Soft, fudgy and sweet . . . dotted with tart fresh raspberries, these are real treasures. These can be prepared up to 3 days before you wish to serve them. You can store them in an air tight container at room temperature, but don't worry about them being around for very long. They'll be snuffled up right away!

8 ounces of good quality white chocolate coarsely chopped, and divided
1 cup plain flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup caster sugar
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
1 cup fresh raspberries, or frozen unsweetened raspberries (Do NOT defrost)
Icing sugar

Pre-heat the oven to 165*c/325*F. Butter an 8 inch non-stick square baking pan, or line an ordinary baking pan with parchment paper and butter that.

Place six ounces of the chopped chocolate into a bowl that will fit over the top of one of your saucepans. Partially fill the pan with water and bring it to a simmer, then place the bowl with the chocolate over top, making sure the water does not touch the bottom of the bowl. Melt the chocolate, giving it an occasion stir, until it is smooth and all melted. Remove from the heat and allow to cool for a few minutes. (alternately you may melt it in the microwave being very careful not to over heat it. Use 30 second bursts, stirring each time until melted and smooth)

Cream the butter and the sugar together until well blended. Mix in the eggs, vanilla and almond extracts. Stir in the melted white chocolate. Stir together the flour and salt and then stir this into the chocolate mixture, mixing in only until just blended. Stir in the remaining chopped chocolate, two ounces, and carefully fold in the raspberries , just until distributed evenly. Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan.

Bake until the top is golden brown and a tooth pick inserted in the centre comes out with moist crumbs attached. You want them to be a bit fudgy. This should take about 40 minutes if you are using fresh berries and 45 minutes if you are using frozen. Remove from the oven to a wire rack to cool in the pan. Cut into 16 squares*, dust with icing sugar and serve.

*Note - I like to line my baking pan with an overhang of parchment paper so that when the brownies are cooled I can just lift them out in one piece. Peel the parchment paper off the sides and then cut into even squares with a large sharp knife.