Ruth's Recipes

I’ve embarked on a new project—compiling a cookbook. So far, it has been the most difficult writing endeavor I’ve approached!

Yes, the Other UC and Me: Editing the Sixties required a great deal of research. Most of the research involved recalling events from over 50 years ago! Those memories were backed up with newspaper articles, books, magazine articles, documents available under the Freedom of Information Act, and presidential speeches. Photographs from the 60s jolted my memory. A visit to the LBJ ranch filled in gaps; the Vietnam Memorial inspired me to continue. Interviews with the News Record staff were both fun and resourceful. The work was tedious, but never frustrating.

My three Magic Nation Tales books were just plain fun to write. I became obsessed with the photographs—taking as many as possible and morphing them into sketches. We spent days debating various covers; I poured over proof sheets until my eyes hurt.

But the cookbook is more of a challenge than the other books. I’m not much of a cook myself, although I do enjoy baking. The book is not actually mine; it really belongs to Ruth McCarty, my mother. Mom earned a BS in Home Economics in the 1930s. If I could describe her in just one word, it would be “homemaker.” She didn’t just cook and bake. She baked our family together.

When Ruth died in 1995, we found hundreds, maybe even thousands, of her recipes. They were everywhere: in a recipe box, in a 12 inch deep kitchen drawer, in her handbags, in her dresser, even in photo albums. Most were her own creations; some were from friends and family. She had a recipe for just about everything a person could venture to cook. Not just a recipe—four or five for each possible dish! Some of those duplicates were necessary. Mom didn’t drive, so she relied on the food in the pantry. Groceries were delivered from the White Villa Store. If her timing was off or the delivery man unavailable, she needed that "pantry stock recipe." So we found a corn pudding recipe for fresh corn, one for frozen corn, one for canned corn, and one for canned creamed corn! I remember when Mom decided she wanted to make a cheesecake for a big party. She had about six recipes. For over three weeks, the family became testers for all the cheesecakes. When she asked which we liked best, we couldn’t decide! They were all amazing.

The past summer, my mother’s great-granddaughter became a bride. Although she was only a few years old when Ruth died, she remembered that her great-grandmother was a terrific cook. “Could you send me some of Great-Gran’s recipes?” she asked. Back in 1995, I had copied the family favorites from Mom’s mammoth piles. How unprofessional my copies looked over 30 years later! So, my husband and I decided to create a cookbook worthy of Mom’s talent.

I still had the copies from 1995 and most of the originals in Mom’s writing. Recipes not included in the 1995 edition were tucked away in a big folder. We began to sort, type, and check all the recipes. If we hadn’t made a dish recently, we made it. If a recipe looked questionable, we checked it against other similar ones or gave it a try in our kitchen. I remember making the crepes recipe. I just couldn’t believe it would work—it was so different from all the ones in my cookbooks or on the Internet. Mom described the batter as “looks like egg nog.” She was correct. Egg Nog it was! Did it work? Absolutely!

I began watching cooking shows on Netflix. I needed to observe

how various dishes were actually made in order to write them clearly. Puff pastry was my major concern. I became obsessed with The British Baking Show. As I attempted to read 70 year old handwriting (some blurred by water and others soiled by grease), I felt like I was involved in the show’s Technical Challenges. And, boy was it challenging!

One rainy afternoon, my husband and I decided to make a big dent in the recipes. He would type some on my laptop, and I would type on our old computer. I was halfway through my stack when he approached me with about 8 recipes. “Can we trade?” he asked. “These are nearly impossible to read.” I traded. I managed to type the items, but the frustration was mind-boggling. If I hadn’t taught English for 30 years to high school kids with a myriad of handwriting styles, I never could have finished.

Mom would add notes to her recipes. Sometimes arrows would point to an addition. For her Kentucky Bourbon Fruitcake, she noted how long to bake in a 12” tube pan, followed by directions for 10”, and 8.” At first, I though the fruitcake was stacked like a wedding cake! Certain directions were frequently left out. After all, if you’ve made puff pastry for years, do you need all the “roll and fold” instructions? If you’ve made meringues numerous times, why not simply write, “Make a meringue”? If you always preheat your oven, do you need to write that down on your recipe card?

Mom had legible handwriting, despite her little additions, asterisks, and arrows. But her friends and relatives were a different story. One relative never mentioned how many servings the recipe made. One listed ingredients sans flour, but said, “add the flour” in the directions!

And then there was the difference in packaging and price. One recipe called for a 49 cent package of pecans! (Probably one or two in that package today!) There were notes on “number 2” cans. One recipe called for “a bushel of tomatoes.” The yeast recipes used yeast cakes. Most cooks today use packets of yeast. We had to check all the measurements for present day equivalents. I began to feel like an algebra teacher! I learned that one pinch equals 1/8 teaspoon. Did you know that three medium bananas equals 1 1/3 cup mashed bananas which equals one pound? Or that 12-14 egg yolks equals a cup? As for the yeast—don’t worry. A cake equals a packet.

So, to sum it up, it’s been frustrating. But, wow, have I learned a great deal! I’m ready to embark on the next project—actually making the Kentucky Bourbon Fruit Cake. By the way, it needs to be made at least 6 weeks before serving.

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