CUISINE & CULTURE
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ANGELINA@ANGELINALARUE.COM
Linnie Pearl grew irises and other beautiful plants. She made tiny dresses for my naked dolls and knitted booties for the ones that lost their shoes. She was so gentle, and always smelled soft — like powder. Linnie was the perfect grandmother. Her handwriting was the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Her home was always warm. And she had a little pup named Bitsy.
I would spend an entire afternoon going through Grandma’s button box. She saved everything from egg cartons to twist ties. She even had balls of loose string and rubber bands she collected. She made small bits of soap useable again by gathering them in a little mesh bag that sat next to the tub. She made lye soap, which I saved, along with the nightgown made of floral-printed cotton she sewed for me. I still cherish the cute drawstring bag she knitted from many different colors of leftover yarn (sounds like I save things the same way she did). I remember she made very impressive bonnets she would wear in the garden. And Grandma could really cook. We all loved her bread pudding. And she could even make stale crackers taste good!
I was 13 the year Grandma passed away. I wasn’t quite a young lady — still climbing in trees in her front yard … when I wasn’t digging a hole to China with my cousin behind the house. Once, when I was younger, Grandma had to call the volunteer fire department to get me out of one those trees! I can still see her standing beneath the big curtain of limbs with her apron on, pointing up at me with concern on her face.
When my aunts began to clean out Grandma’s house, they divided her treasures into groups. One group was in the middle of the living room floor — all kinds of little odds and ends. They told the kids we could select anything from that pile to keep for ourselves. I don’t know what would compel a 13-year-old tomboy to pick out a tattered red-and-white-checked tablecloth. I was a nostalgic kind of kid; maybe it was because I had lost my dad when I was only 10 and I was very sentimental. The tablecloth symbolized something to me but I didn’t remember seeing it before, so there was no particular memory in my heart. It was full of holes, so she probably hadn’t used it for much at that point—but you know she saved everything.
If Grandma had used the tablecloth while I was there, I could only imagine it on the ground in the yard, set up for a picnic. She would have brought out those stale crackers she had toasted and made so tasty, along with a can of Viennas, or a maybe a potted meat sandwich on soft white bread; I didn’t learn until much later about all the things that go into potted meat!
So even though I didn’t remember Grandma actually using the checked tablecloth, I just knew it would sum up a very special feeling about being at her house. It has served those memories well. I take it out for occasions like Mother’s Day, and at other special times. I treat it like it’s the finest linen. I’m sure people wonder why I use it when they see the holes. To me, it is perfection. It is gentle and soft — and even makes stale crackers taste good.
Hold the memories close to your heart of those who can’t be with you.
Bread Pudding
3 cups white bread cubes, bite-size chunks (stale bread or buns works great) 2 cups milk ¼ cup butter 2/3 cup brown sugar 3 eggs 2 teaspoons cinnamon ¼ teaspoon nutmeg 1 teaspoon vanilla extract ½ cup dried fruit, like raisins, dried cranberries or apricots cut into small pieces In a medium saucepan, heat milk over medium heat until film forms on top. Add butter to hot milk and stir until melted. Cool to lukewarm. Whisk together sugar, eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla in a medium bowl until well blended. Slowly whisk this mixture into the milk and butter mixture. Place bread cubes in the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle with dried fruit. Pour liquid mixture over bread. Bake in preheated oven for 45 to 50 minutes. Serve warm. This can be served as is or drizzle a sweet glaze over top.
Note: Glaze can be made with a couple tablespoons of milk or cold coffee whisked together with 1
cup powdered sugar.
Angelina LaRue, author of “The Whole Enchilada: Fresh and Nutritious Southwestern Cuisine,” grew up at White River Lake, lives in Idalou and writes a weekly food column for local newspapers.
