Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Marie's Apple Cake

There are so many ways to make apfelkuchen, or “apple cake”! I suspect every ethnic German mother and grandmother has her own recipe. This is just one version—but I know you’ll love it. It’s easy to make. It’s a bit rustic, but you can dress it up with toppings.

Yeah, there’s a whole world of great German desserts out there, and “kuchens” come in all varieties and forms. (It’s not surprising, when you consider that kuchen means “cake,” and of course we have ten thousand types of cakes—sheet cakes, pancakes, crab cakes, coffee cakes, ice cream cakes, rice cakes, etc.)

This is a nice, easy, little apple cake recipe from my Grandma Schroeder’s best friend in the whole wide world, her crony from early girlhood through their entire lives, Marie (Weigand) Korsmeyer (1904–1999). She and her husband, Clay Korsmeyer, lived at 112 W. Atchison Street. The house is still there, across the street from my friend Laura’s house.

I got the recipe from my mom, who had apparently gotten it from Grandma—Edna Schroeder—who had apparently gotten it from Marie . . . even though Grandma clearly had her own recipe(s) for apple kuchen!

Oh, Marie!

Edna and Marie’s friendship resembled a “Lucy and Ethel” relationship in some ways; it was beautiful, lively, fun-filled, and true. I think whenever their shenanigans ended with “trouble,” they generally wound up having a good laugh over it. There are stories about them, as little girls, bingeing on green apples they had snitched from someone’s apple tree, and soon after, regretting it! It would become a hilarious story that got better and better with time.

Marie (left) and Edna (right), having "refreshments" in the backyard at 224 W. Elm, late 1970s or early 1980s. That was back when "poodle" haircuts were all the rage for ladies of a certain age.

Then there’s the story about them as mature adults, having a few too many martinis out in the backyard, and . . . well, that story will remain in the family. And the neighborhood bird population—they’re probably still telling that story, too. (Ha ha ha!)

Edna and Marie were practically sisters, growing up together in the early years of the 1900s on West Elm Street. To my dad and his brothers, Marie was another aunt. And to me, she was in the same category as my great aunts Minnie and Esther, and cousin Marguerite, in that same age group. No family get-together was complete without Marie’s cackling laughter.

I’ve altered the recipe slightly, mainly putting the wet ingredients and dry ingredients together, and adding a pinch of salt, but those are the only changes. Notice that the recipe calls for two cups of apples and one cup of flour—so get a sharp knife and chop the apples finely. (Marie, by the way, had superb knife skills.) Indeed, this cake can be rather crumbly because of all the yummy apple in it. It’s super moist, almost jammy.

It’s up to you if you want to peel the apples or leave skins on. I think it makes a prettier, more tender cake if you peel them. But if you want the fiber and nutrients, you needn’t peel the apples.

Nuts: I’d use black walnuts or pecans. Back in the day, black walnuts were free, if you were willing to hull them and bust them open and pick the nutmeats out. But you can use whatever nuts you want, or omit them altogether.

The batter is pretty stiff and sticky, but not to worry—the apples will provide moisture while this bakes. To spread the batter out in the pan, wet your hands with some water and use them to pat and smooth the surface. I use an 8 x 8 inch baking dish, prepared with some nonstick cooking spray.

It will get a little crisp on top; it’s done when the edges start pulling away from the pan and a toothpick comes out clean. You know. It will be moist and rather crumbly.

This is an excellent coffee cake for breakfast as well as a tasty dessert. For the latter, consider serving it hot, à la mode. Maybe you want to drizzle some icing over it, or garnish it with a bit of cinnamon sugar or powdered sugar.

Marie’s Apple Cake

In a medium bowl, cream together:

  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1/4 cup shortening

Then mix in:

  • 1 egg
  • 1 tsp. vanilla

Set the bowl with the wet ingredients aside.

In a large bowl, combine:

  • 1 cup flour
  • 1 tsp. baking powder
  • pinch of salt
  • 1 tsp. cinnamon
  • 1/4 tsp. nutmeg

Then mix in:

  • 2 cups apples (about 2 large), cut finely (peel if desired) (Jonathan or Granny Smith recommended)
  • 1/4 to 1/2 cup nuts, if desired

Then stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients/apples/nuts.

Spread into a greased [8 x 8”] cake pan and bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes or until done.

And . . . think of Marie as you enjoy your cake.

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ADDENDA: For the record, here are the two Southside/Munichburg homes that Marie lived in.

Marie's first Munichburg home was 208 W. Elm, on the same block where my grandma grew up (at 215 and 220 W. Elm) and where my grandma and grandpa lived once they were married (at 224 W. Elm). Here's what Marie's girlhood home, 208 W. Elm, looked like in August 2007.

In the picture below (from Google Map's Street View, ca. 2021), Marie's girlhood home, 208 W. Elm, is the brick house at the right. Grandma's home (224 W. Elm) is the white-stucco house at far left. Today, only 224, 220, and 218 remain standing on that side of the block. I think 208 was razed sometime last year (2023). It was the last house on that end of the block to go. Being brick, it was the sturdiest. (I don't remember the demolition; Sue says I might have been in Columbia that day; the razing crew made quick work of it.)

Marie and her husband, Clay, lived at 112 W. Atchison, within easy walking distance from Elm Street. Here's what it looks like today, again with Google Street View, as of July 2023.

One more bit of information: Dad says that Marie's parents were from Cole Camp, Missouri. Her maiden name was Weigand. Dad says she also has Lumpe ancestors, too. Which is kind of interesting, since Dad and I will be at Cole Camp in April doing a talk at that community's Plattdeutsch club! Maybe one of Marie's relatives will be there.

Thursday, November 16, 2023

Grandma Renner’s Apple and Raisin Stuffing

Only a week before Thanksgiving! Have you decided on all your recipes yet? I’d like to recommend my Grandma Renner’s Apple and Raisin Stuffing!

This may be Germanic, or it may not. It is, however, THE BEST DRESSING for Thanksgiving turkey. Everyone in the Renner family agrees!

Seriously, it’s an old-fashioned favorite, and not just with my family, either. I’ve got nothing against Stove Top stuffing (though it often “tastes of box.”) But it can’t hold a candle to homemade. And the sweet-savory combination of apples, onions, raisins, and celery is just what poultry wants, in the fall.

I’m actually providing you with four slightly different renditions of it. Because it’s a stuffing, it’s not rocket science. Each family member who has made it has altered it slightly, and I find that intensely interesting. I doubt that even Grandma made it the same way all the time.

So here is what I present below:

  1. The recipe that I’ve transcribed from a handwritten copy by my grandma, Clara Renner.
  2. The same recipe as Grandma’s, but with comments and suggestions by me, and presented in a more standard recipe format (I suggest you use this one, but of course I’m biased).
  3. A version of the recipe apparently handwritten by Grandma, that had been tucked into one of her sister’s cookbooks.

  4. My mom’s version of the recipe, from Mom’s recipe cards.
  5. My Aunt Sally’s handwritten version of the recipe—which my cousin David uses.

It’s interesting to note that Grandma Renner didn’t care very much for turkey, so she much preferred to have chicken at Thanksgiving instead. And yeah, we often had chicken at Thanksgiving. This stuffing is great with both!

“Dressing for Turkey”: Clara Renner’s Stuffing

1 loaf bread cut into cubes and toasted in oven [...] then put in large mixing bowl or pan. Cut up about 4 stalks celery, 1 large onion, 3 apples sliced as for pies, 1 cup raisins, cover with enough water so as not to burn and cook this until almost tender, sprinkle with black pepper and a little poultry seasoning about the same amount as pepper and add about 1 tablespoon salt, pour this over the bread crumbs and add 2 unbeaten eggs and mix well, do not pack dressing in fowl too tight. Put some of the dressing [...] top of chicken. If you have any of the dressing left over, spoon or ladle some of the juice out of the bottom of the baking pan when the poultry is about done and stir this juice with the left over dressing and bake in one of your Pyrex baking dishes with lid on, take the lid off when about done to brown the top a bit.

_____

When baking any kind of fowl sprinkle the inside and outside with salt, pepper and poultry seasoning then put in baking pan and add a cup of water in bottom of pan to help to keep it moist. It is best to bake a hen at 325 for about 2½ hrs, then uncover and bake to brown on all sides until tender.

Edited Version of the Above (Julie Schroeder, presumptuous editor)

1 loaf bread [e.g., country white] cut into [½ to ¾ inch] cubes and toasted in oven [yes, until they turn golden brown]
4 stalks celery, chopped [I’d use the tender inside parts, with leaves]
1 large onion, chopped [white or yellow]
3 apples [peeled and] sliced as for pies [Jonathan was Grandma Renner’s go-to apple for pies; I think Granny Smith or other firm, tart, flavorful baking apple would work well, too]
1 cup raisins
water [or chicken or turkey stock, or liquid from cooking giblets; or milk, per Sally Renner’s version]
black pepper
poultry seasoning [such as McCormick’s, which is a blend of thyme, sage, marjoram, rosemary, black pepper, and nutmeg]
1 tablespoon salt
2 unbeaten eggs [lightly beaten, no doubt; apparently can be omitted, per Pat Schroeder’s version]

[You can make all of the stuffing/dressing in a baking dish, instead of stuffing it into the fowl. To my recollection, no one actually stuffed the turkey or chicken from the 1970s and on. People were concerned about it not getting cooked through and being a health hazard.]

Spread toasted bread cubes into large baking dish [such as a 9 x 13 inch baking pan] [and set aside].

In a saucepan or skillet, mix together celery, onion, apples, and raisins; cover with [or just “add”?] enough water [or stock] to keep from burning, and cook until almost tender. [OR: I suggest using a stick of margarine or butter, in a frying pan, to sauté the celery, onion, raisins, and apples; see other versions of this recipe.] Add black pepper, poultry seasoning, and salt. [Use plenty of seasonings, but take into account the saltiness of the water, stock, or other liquid you will use.]

Combine vegetable mixture and eggs [if using]; pour onto bread cubes in baking dish, and mix well. Adjust moisture with [stock or] poultry juices [or milk or whatever]. Bake at 350, covered, until about done, then remove lid to allow top to brown.

“Clara’s Apple and Raisin Dressing”

This version was on a piece of note paper stuck in Great Aunt Lyd’s copy of Cooking with Faith (the ca. 1970 cookbook of Faith Lutheran Church, Jefferson City). I think it’s in Grandma Renner’s handwriting. Aunt Lyd was Grandma’s younger sister. Notice that this version doesn’t use eggs.

Cut up a large loaf of bread into squares and toast, put in big container. Peel and slice 4 jonathan apples, 4 big stems of celery, 1 large or 2 medium size onions, then add a heaping cup of raisins. Put into skillet 1 whole stick margarine then add these 4 things and cook a little until about tender, then pour into that 2 cans Campbell’s chicken broth, sprinkle a little salt and pepper over this and a little poultry seasoning and stir, then pour over the toasted bread crumbs, if it isn’t moist enough to dampen all the bread add a little water.

“Mom’s Dressing”

From Pat Schroeder, so “Mom” is Clara Renner. So this is another version of Clara Renner’s apple and raisin poultry stuffing. As Grandma grew older, Pat took on more of the Thanksgiving cooking duties, and she often prepped the dressing at home in Columbia, the day before Thanksgiving, or on Thanksgiving morning. Then she brought it to Grandma’s house to finish cooking. Pat’s quantity adjustments are in brackets.

Cube and toast 1 loaf of bread.
Peel and cut up 5 [3] apples
Peel and cut up 2 [1] large onions
Cut up 4 to 6 sticks of celery
1 cup raisins

In fry pan, 1 stick margarine. Sauté onion, apple, celery, and raisins until tender. Add 2 cans undiluted chicken broth. Add salt and pepper—let it cool a little. Then pour over and mix with bread crumbs.

[This would be put into a 9 x 13 inch baking dish (or spread around the turkey in the pan and the rest placed in a smaller baking dish), and cooked, covered, in a medium oven, until heated through; then the cover would be removed and the mixture allowed to brown and dry a bit. If using aluminum foil as a cover, I suggest spraying its bottom side lightly with PAM so it won’t stick to the top of the dressing.]

[Note that this version does not include eggs. In my opinion, the recipe is fine without eggs. Nor does it include poultry seasoning, though presumably poultry seasoning would be used on the fowl. —JS]

German Apple Dressing

This version of Clara Renner’s poultry stuffing/dressing is from Sally Renner, her daughter-in-law who lived in Wyoming. As her note at the end of the recipe says, it was her husband, Elwood’s favorite. So this is the version that my cousin David uses, since his mom gave him this recipe. If anyone loves this stuffing more than me, it might be David. He makes it every year. He usually cooks it inside the turkey, too.

Note that Sally recommends using milk for moisture, or a combination of milk and giblet-cooking water.

She also does not specify sautéing or otherwise cooking the celery, onions, apples, and raisins before combining them with the bread. In fact, you add the vegetable components to the dry bread mixture the night before; they cook as they’re in the bird. Or the dish.

Also, the recipe makes a smaller quantity of stuffing than the previous two, using a small loaf of bread, medium (not large) onion, only 2 apples, only ½ cup raisins, etc.

My comments in the recipe are in square brackets —JS.

1 small loaf of bread, toasted on a baking sheet until dry and lightly browned [sliced, then toasted in the oven; David uses a toaster to toast the bread slices].

1 med. sized onion, chopped
½ cup chopped celery and leaves
2 med. sized Jonathan or Winesap apples, pared and cored to make 3 cups chopped
½ cup raisins

Cut the toasted bread into cubes and salt and pepper to taste.

I then put this in the refrigerator to season overnight. [So: the seasoned, toasted bread cubes, chopped onion, celery, and apples, and raisins, all get mixed together and sit overnight.]

In the morning, take out and add:
2 eggs, lightly beaten,
2 cups milk [see below regarding combination of milk and giblet-cooking water]
½ cup melted oleo or butter

If you have boiled the giblets to put in gravy, the liquid from them may also be used instead of 2 cups milk, [so, for example,] use 1 cup milk and 1 cup liquid from giblets. You want the bread mixture to be soft, as too dry [of a] mixture will make the stuffing hard and dry after being baked. Pack loosely into turkey or chicken.

This is the recipe from Mom Renner, and was Elwood’s favorite. If you like you can add:
1/4 tsp. ground sage
1/4 tsp. poultry seasoning

Monday, March 20, 2023

Where Have I Been?

Well, certainly not on vacation. Any free time I’ve had recently has been spent on things like work (actual billable hours!) and the basics of taking care of our home (including, like, getting another new furnace in January). I don’t think I could have done this without Sue. And my brother came to help for two weeks in February.

If you don’t read anything after this, please get this at least: GET THE SHINGLES VACCINATION IF YOU’RE ELIGIBLE FOR IT. (((Okay?)))

Round One

Here’s what’s up. My mom got shingles in the middle of January. None of us quite knew what was going on, since she didn’t have an obvious rash, nor did she have the excruciating pain shingles is infamous for. There were about three days of increasing overall weakness, redness on half her forehead, swelling in her right eye, and, as she weakened, loss of appetite. Had she just slept "wrong," and not been drinking enough? She didn’t want to go to urgent care. So we tried telehealth. The telehealth doc had us hold the camera up to Mom’s forehead, and he said “go to the emergency room, this looks like shingles.”

So we went to the ER on 1/14, she was diagnosed with eye shingles and secondary bacterial infection. Hours later, she was returned home with a prescription for Valtrex and antibiotics. She’d had no liquids or food that whole day, pretty much. Not even an IV. And since it was now late on a Saturday, the drugstore the ER sent the prescription to was closed and would be closed until Monday. So Sunday, we had to get the ER to send the prescription to a different pharmacy. By the time we tried to get her to swallow the first medications she’d had since the afternoon before, she was too weak and dehydrated to sit up on the edge of the bed.

So, for the second day in a row, she went to the ER. This time, she was admitted, thanks to her overall weakness and dehydration, also because the swelling was starting to extend to the other side of her face, with both eyes nearly swollen shut. Not meaning to be mean . . . but Sue and I both decided Mom looked like “a prizefighter who’d lost the round.” She was in the hospital from 1/15 to 1/20. With IV fluids and antibiotics, she started getting better quickly. We visited her every day.

She didn't have much of an appetite, so we brought her food we were pretty sure she'd like.

Then, she went to a rehab facility from 1/20 to 1/28. She didn’t want to go there. She didn’t remember much (if anything) about her trips to the ER, and she still doesn’t remember much about the days before, and the days in the hospital. All she knew was that she wanted to be home.

I don’t think she really understands, yet, that a stay in a rehab place is not the same as being locked up in a nursing home. Indeed, the rehab place simply does the kinds of things that hospitals used to do “back in the day,” back when people stayed in hospitals doing rehab and getting stronger until they were able to go home. Anyway, Mom hated the rehab place.

. . . The food was pretty miserable.

And she felt the chair was uncomfortable. And she had to press her button well before she needed assistance getting to the bathroom. And the TV didn’t work like her TV at home. Also, her eyesight was messed up. She had several days of just having a plain old bad attitude. ("Hmm," I thought; "maybe the inconveniences and less-than-optimal situation can act as an incentive for her to do PT, so she doesn't have to return to a rehab place anytime soon!")

Dad and Sue and I tried to make it nicer for her. We visited her every day. I did my best with the TV. I read to her from her mystery book. Worried that she wasn't eating enough, I brought her Wendy’s burgers (single cheeseburger, no mayo, just the way she likes ’em), Arris pizza, Taco Bell taco supremes. You know—her favorites. As it was in the hospital, my “shift” was in the afternoons and into suppertime; Dad was with her in the mornings, through lunchtime, so he got to see her do her PT and OT.

The Wednesday, January 25 Debacle

A day that will live in infamy. So, until 1/25 (the day the insurance made the decision to deny her a second week in rehab), she was experiencing no pain. But that day was a debacle. First and worst, Mom started getting the excruciating pain associated with shingles early that morning. For the following several weeks, she’d get an attack about once every 3 to 5 hours, and even though the attack would only last about a single minute, it was incredibly draining on her. Her whole body would tense up; she’d cry and whimper. It was so hard to see. So that began early in the morning on Wednesday, 1/25—the same day Mom had an 11 a.m. appointment at the University Hospital’s Mason Eye Clinic. The rehab place said they’d transport her there—we were to meet her at the front entrance to the hospital at 10:30. Dad and I were there at 10:15 (I’d spent the night in Columbia, since snow was predicted overnight, of course).

So, it got to be 10:45, and Mom hadn’t appeared. I called the rehab place (the name rhymes with “The Snuffs”), and the nurses said they were on their way. Around 11, she still hadn’t arrived, and when I called again, “the driver dropped her off; she should be there.” I said, “Well, she’s not here.” More time elapsed. In between these calls trying to find out where the heck my mother was, I was reporting to the receptionists at the eye clinic: “Well, they SAY she should be here!” Wouldn’t it just figure that they’d finally get Mom to her appointment, and the eye place say, “well, you weren’t on time, so we have to reschedule you.” Ughhhhh!!! . . . Next time I called the rehab place nurse, she said, “Okay, they had dropped her off at the eye clinic on Keene Street. She’s on her way now.” So finally Mom showed up, and the eye clinic saw her at noon, a full hour late.

Mom had been dropped off at the wrong University Eye Clinic. The driver hadn’t paid attention to the words “UH - Lobby floor” instruction on her transportation papers. He’d wheeled my mom into the Keene Street eye clinic, asked her if she saw her daughter (me) anywhere, and poor Mom had used her one reasonably good eye and tried to oblige him: “Yes . . . I think that’s her over there.” And the guy just left her there! Without verifying if it was really the right person or not. Jeez!

I don’t know how they figured this out. Was it the rehab place nurse who contacted the driver and told him to go back? Or did eye clinic staff at the Keene Street location go over to my mom, look at her papers, and call the rehab place? The mind boggles.

Anyway, it was a rough damn day. The eye clinic doc had good news for us: her eye is improving. As to the pain that had just started to occur, she said that a regular MD is the one to talk to about starting on pain medication. So as soon as we returned to the rehab place, I got with the nurse and asked if their staff doctor could start her on something. “I’ll relay the message to the doctor.”

End of First Rehab and Back Home

For the rest of Mom’s time at the rehab place, she was never prescribed anything more than the over-the-counter Tylenol she has always taken for her chronic back pain (indeed, I think they effectively took her off that, since they deemed it “upon request,” and Mom wasn’t thinking to “request” it).

So her pain attacks continued, and each agonizing episode strained at muscles she hadn’t used in years. The pain attacks just wrung her out. As a result, even though her first few days in rehab showed steady improvement, she didn’t have much of a net gain in strength while she was at the rehab place. The rehab place's doctor didn't prescribe anything for her shingles pain, although we asked again and again.

Mom felt it was a betrayal for us to try to get a second week of rehab for her, but anyway, our appeal for another week was denied, so she came home on 1/28. On Monday, 1/30, we took her to see her regular doctor, and he started her on gabapentin, a pain medication that must be increased only gradually, to avoid side effects. On 2/1, I had my first entire day at my home. On 2/2, my brother flew to Missouri to be at Mom and Dad’s house. He helped with the transition to visiting PT and OT practitioners, and visiting nurses keeping tabs on Mom’s health. He also helped Dad with Mom’s various medications and with tracking her pain attacks.

Soon after Mom returned home, Sue noticed my parents’ house seemed dry, and we figured out that their humidifier wasn’t turned on. A phone to their HVAC company revealed that their service contract hadn’t been renewed, so we had to get that reestablished (yeah, now we’re in the twenty-first century, with the monthly payments automatically deducted from their checking account, and automatic renewal, instead of being paid by check once a year, and renewal activity having to happen each year). Fortunately, the HVAC company sent a guy out right away to do the maintenance and turn on the humidifier. Hopefully Mom’s eyes and skin wouldn’t seem so dry, right?

Did we all need extra things to take care of? No, but I was so glad my brother was able to help with another issue that my Dad hadn’t gotten to—linoleum removal, cleanup, disinfection, and de-molding of the basement laundry room, where the sewer had backed up a few times, including once while my brother was there (n.b.: “flushable” wipes are not truly flushable). I’m so grateful he was able to assist with dealing with the company doing the work, and with the insurance company, which (yayayay!) is paying for nearly all the work, including duct cleaning and rebuilding part of a closet that had gotten affected by the sewer backup. Indeed, that project isn’t quite finished—but it’s getting close to completion!

We had some good times while my brother was in the state. The family had a little Super Bowl party (and the Chiefs won!); and we served Mom and Dad one of their favorite meals: pork sausage patties, fried apples, and mashed potatoes. Another night, it was my homemade shepherd’s pie! My brother and I even went out for a bro-and-sis lunch at Ozark Mountain Biscuit Company, one of our new favorite restaurants.

The day before he flew back home, we took Mom to another doctor appointment; since her pain attacks didn’t seem to be helped much, he increased her dosage of gabapentin. That night, we had a pre-Valentine’s dinner. The next day, we drove him back to the St. Louis airport. Things were looking hopeful!

More Bumps in the Road

Mom had another eye appointment on 2/16; the doc found uveitis (inflammation between the cornea and iris) and put Mom on prednisone/steroid eyedrops (one drop per waking hour), and started her back on Valtrex (antiviral medication), since the steroid can open the way for a reemergence of the shingles.

Meanwhile, the gabapentin dosage was being ramped up—in hindsight, too much too fast. Mom was getting weaker and her vision was still bleary. By the weekend of 2/18 and 2/19, the pain was finally abating, but within a twenty-four-hour period between 2/19 and 2/20, Mom had ended up on the floor four times. Sooooo . . . another ambulance trip back to the hospital. And another week there.

The pain medication seemed to be the culprit, so they took her off the gabapentin and put her on a different pain medication (pregabalin). They also started her on two blood pressure medications. They’d noticed orthostatic hypotension (BP drop when she stands up) apparently related to the gabapentin, plus old age and poor physical condition. But her BP was rather high when lying down. They put her on two BP medications (midodrine to raise it, lisinopril to lower it—go figure). The eye docs reduced her steroid eyedrops to just twice a day.

Mom was doing pretty poorly, but she really wanted to go home. All the time spent lying in bed hadn’t helped her fitness at all. There was no way she was strong enough to make it up the stairs to the living room. She needed more rehab.

So after about a week in the hospital, Mom was transferred to a (different) rehab place on 2/24 and was there until 3/11—general weakness and a need to keep an eye on her BP. Another trip to the eye docs on 3/7 saw NO inflammation in her eye, and they started weaning her off of the steroid eyedrops. The eye doc took her off Valtrex and antibiotic eye ointment (she couldn’t figure out why they were still giving those to Mom, when she’d said for both to stop, like a week ago). I won’t go into how the rehab place had kept her on Valtrex all this time, and had somehow increased the eyedrops from 2x/day to 3x/day. What the hell?

So after two weeks at the rehab place, Mom came home again on Saturday, 3/11. I had a heck of a time figuring out the medicines, based on the paperwork they sent home with her. Apparently, they hadn’t been tapering off the prednisone at all; apparently they had taken her off it cold-turkey. (Though the next Monday morning, a nurse from the rehab place called and asserted they had, too been reducing it according to instructions. Hmm.) Also apparently, they had not been giving her the Tylenol she’s accustomed to, even though we’d made it clear she gets the maximum dosage every day, to help with her chronic back pain. Finally, I couldn’t figure out why the BP meds were being given so often and at the times of day they said, especially the midodrine, whose third dose they were supposedly giving her in the “evening.” What-what-what? That’s never to be given near bedtime.

Naturally, it’s pretty impossible to talk to medical professionals on a weekend. Why do they release people on weekends? Anyway, we got it figured out. (I think.)

Back Home Again: Time to Blossom

So at this point, Mom’s back at home, her doc’s taken her off of midodrine, she’s winding down on the prednisone drops, but she’s still on the pregablin (which seems to be taking care of the pain attacks, though the right side of her head is still really sensitive and zingy).

While Mom was at the rehab place, I installed a toilet-seat raiser with handrails onto her toilet, and Dad hired their carpenter/handyman to install additional handrails on the staircases, which made a big difference in Mom's ability to haul herself up from the basement garage to the floor they live on.

Mom's vision is still wonky: ever since her right eye reopened during the initial hospitalization, she’s had double (non-binocular) vision. The right eye isn’t in great alignment with the left. The eye docs think this was caused by inflammation, daily antibiotic ointment treatments (which make vision blurry), and general physical weakness, and so far they have resisted giving her corrective lenses that would act as a crutch; they’ve been hoping that her eyes will return to alignment and binocular vision as she improves overall and uses both eyes together. So Mom’s still struggling to read and watch TV—her two favorite activities.

Also, throughout, Mom has acted as if PT and OT is a hardship, an annoyance, a punitive sentence, an outrage upon her constitutional rights as a senior—but hopefully she will finally see that her doing regular physical activity is a key for her and Dad getting to live safely at home for as long as possible. For years, her doctors have told her to simply get up and walk around the house a little, and Mom always nods and says "yes."

But back at home, she always has an excuse for not doing it: “my back hurts; I just got up; doesn’t walking to the bathroom count?; I’m tired; I’m old; but I can do that!; well, shouldn’t Bud be having to do exercises, too?” (Note that Dad has been doing PT and other exercises of various sorts for years; the issue with him is that he wants to do too much!) The day of her return from the rehab place, I suggested Mom do some little marchy-steps while seated, and she complained that she should get at least one day to relax at home!

Mom does PT when a physical therapist is there to have her do it; and the PT folks have told her again and again to do some exercises during commercial breaks, or get up and walk around between TV shows—but when Dad or I remind her to move, she doesn’t listen to us. She just sits there. Lord knows I’ve beaten this drum enough the last two months. Let’s hope she takes it to heart; I’m tired of nagging her about it.

Yeah, it’s been rough emotionally, too. It’s been so frustrating, trying to convey to my mom the importance of her taking care of her body via three simple things: drinking, eating, and doing even just light exercises. But my frustration really doesn’t matter. We’ve all been frustrated! This has been incredibly difficult for my mom, who did everything she was supposed to do to treat her shingles; she did the PT at the first rehab place, and did it well; then she got discharged half a week after her pain attacks started. The doc and nurses at the rehab place let her down by not addressing the pain right away. Then, once she finally got a prescription for pain medications, nearly a week after the pain began, it took ages for the pain meds to build up to hope to do anything. Then, finally, the pain meds were too much and she started falling down. Then, another stay at a hospital, and then rehab and PT all over again.

For someone who hadn’t spent a night in a hospital in like thirty years, never seen the inside of a “rehab place,” and who’s not used to taking much medicine at all, my mom’s had to swallow a ton of it. And the indignity of people making decisions for her. This has been a huge disruption in her life. And who the heck can figure out the weird TVs in the hospital and rehab places??

She can't even see to read her mystery books. . . . Boy, I'd have my crabby moments, too.

Dan, Mom’s physical therapist at the most recent rehab place, told me he’d told my mom that when she goes home, it’s her “time to blossom.” He, too, encouraged her to get up several times throughout the day to walk around, to do some seated exercises during commercial breaks, and thus reclaim her strength and independence. “Time to blossom.”

We’ve had some crabby conversations, but since she’s been home, Mom has been taking the bull by the horns, sort of. She’s been putting on nicer clothing, she’s more independent with toilet habits, she’s been eating more, drinking more, and not raising a big ruckus about medications. I’m not sure she’s doing much physical movement, but hopefully she’ll get some benefit from home PT visits soon . . . before there’s some other bump in the road.

Wednesday, January 4, 2023

Mark’s Good Old Stuff

It’s not an heirloom recipe, but to me it’s a classic. It helped me survive graduate school. You can file it under “goulash” or “one-dish meals,” but you can also label it “cheap, first-apartment food” or “culinary atrocity number 537.” The major sin here is a ham-handed blending of Italian and Mexican Tex-Mex flavors. The basic idea is to use canned chili, plus other ingredients, as your pasta sauce.

Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it.

I have two versions to share. Mark, referenced in the title of the recipe, was the owner of the pet shop I worked at all through college. One version of the recipe amounts to the original notes that I wrote down to the best of my memory, after watching Mark make it as a quick, tasty dinner one night. It will give you an insight into how to approach such a dish as this.

I had never seen Mark cook before, and I don’t think I ever saw him fix any food after this. At work, if we ever had any big projects requiring after-hours labor (like the three times we moved the entire pet store within the mall!) he would reward us, and keep us from going home, by ordering three or four large Domino’s “ExtravagaZZa” pizzas. I remember coming to the pet store for work the morning after a late night, and he and I gnawed on some of the cold pizza still laying on the counter in the back room.

We weren’t very close friends; I mean, he was my boss. I only went to his home a few times, so I can’t speak to the rest of his culinary repertoire. Sure, I’d seen him move a rock the size of a refrigerator, and I knew he was a hockey player and part-time/reserve city police officer—when he wasn’t at the pet store. He was not exactly domestic.

Neither was I, at the time. But I was starting to pay attention to methods and procedures for making tasty foods, so in this case it was like a big brother showing me how easy it was to make “good tasty cheap stuff, and it makes a ton.” He kind of laughed as made it. He hadn’t been in college for a number of years, but had just gotten a divorce, was living in an apartment, and was paying alimony and child support.

So here are my original notes for “Mark’s Good Old Stuff”:

Get some links of Italian sausage, cut it up and fry it in a skillet. In a separate, large saucepan, heat up a can of chili beans. Dump the sausage and grease and all into the beans. Put in some cooked macaroni (elbow or whatever). Did he put in some oregano? A bay leaf? Some green pepper, black olives, onion? Some canned tomato?

And here’s my version, as I eventually developed it into more of a formula. (Or maybe it’s more of a checklist for when you stop by the grocery store on your way home from work.)

8 oz. rotini pasta (or elbows, or shells, or whatever)
Italian sausage (2 to 4 big links; remove casing)
green bell pepper (chopped) (optional)
onion (chopped) (optional)
1 can corn (whole kernels) (drained)
1 can chili with beans
1 can chopped tomatoes (optional)
1 can black olives (California olives) (drained and chopped)

Cook the pasta until al dente; don’t overcook it. While it’s cooking, prepare the rest of the stuff. Use a big, heavy skillet. Fry the sausage; chop it up while it’s cooking. Remove some of the grease (or not). Add the green bell pepper and onion, if using, and fry those, too. Add the corn to the sausage in the skillet, and keep heating. Then add the chili and tomatoes (if using), and heat through. Add the black olives last, because they’re kind of delicate. Then combine the drained pasta with the “stuff.” Heat through.

Optional: serve garnished with sour cream or shredded cheese, such as cheddar, mozzarella, or parmesan. If you really want to dress it up, top it with chopped cilantro or green onions.

Note: clearly, you can adjust it however you wish. I like it with hot Italian sausage and spicy chili.

Finally, this actually tastes better the next day or so after you make it. So this makes a ton, and you do want to have leftovers.

Sunday, January 1, 2023

Jar of Goodness Recap

Usually, when you do “Jar of Goodness,” you write down something you’re grateful for each week, and then you stick that slip of paper into a jar. Then, as part of your New Year’s Eve ceremony, you pour out the slips of paper and read them. If an entire family has participated, then the discussion revolves around who wrote what, and why, and general reminiscing.

But in this case, it’s just me, and it’s a virtual Jar of Goodness. So all I can really do is offer a list of my various Jar of Goodnesses. (See below.) Make of it what you will. To read all the J.O.G. posts, click this link here.

And what will I do this year? Should I continue the J.O.G.?

Actually, as I continued this weekly J.O.G. series, I’ve learned that my blog has pretty much always been a “Jar of Goodness.” In my blog, I usually focus on things that I like and love. Things I appreciate. The thing that’s different about the J.O.G. is the must-do weekly format (also known as a “deadline”), and the “permission” to have quite short, straightforward posts.

So for 2023, I think I’ll drop the J.O.G. concept, and just make a point of posting something weekly, or thereabouts. (In truth, many of my Sunday J.O.G. posts were written and uploaded on Wednesdays. Who knew that midweek was a better time for blogging?) Maybe I’ll still tag an occasional post as a “Jar of Goodness,” but I don’t see a need to make a weekly string of posts with that particular label. What do you think?

Also, I have a new idea for a regular series that could easily have twelve (monthly) parts, though it would probably be a stretch to make it weekly, with 52 installments. Maybe biweekly? We’ll just see how it goes. I’m still thinking about it. Stay tuned!

I can definitely recommend the Jar of Goodness for anyone. It will remind you to see the joy and beauty around you; it will exercise your “gratitude” muscles. You will feel more blessed, in mundane and in sublime ways. If you’re a blogger or journaler, it’s a good way to get back into a rhythm. It would be a great, and meaningful activity for a family, or a couple, to do together. I hope you’ll try it!

The 2022 Jar of Goodness Project

Jar of Goodness 12.25.22: The Holiday Season
Jar of Goodness 12.18.22: Heirloom Christmas Cookies
Jar of Goodness 12.11.22: New Car!
Jar of Goodness 12.4.22: New Gutters, and Done!
Jar of Goodness 11.27.22: Dormer Siding
Jar of Goodness 11.20.22: Artemis I
Jar of Goodness 11.13.22: Sunporch Storm Windows Done
Jar of Goodness 11.6.22: Little House Books
Jar of Goodness 10.30.22: Gans Creek
Jar of Goodness 10.23.22: October Day at Painted Rock
Jar of Goodness 10.16.22: Houseplant Dance
Jar of Goodness 10.9.22: Fall Color
Jar of Goodness 10.2.22: Deborah Cooper Park
Jar of Goodness 9.25.22: Old Munichburg Oktoberfest
Jar of Goodness 9.18.22: My Brother
Jar of Goodness 9.11.22: New Roof!
Jar of Goodness 9.4.22: Shakespeare’s Pizza South
Jar of Goodness 8.28.22: Native Prairies
Jar of Goodness 8.21.22: August 1993
Jar of Goodness 8.14.22: New HVAC System
Jar of Goodness 8.7.22: Dad’s Homemade Cookies
Jar of Goodness 7.31.22: Wait. Jar of Goodness?
Jar of Goodness 7.24.22: Menus for the Seasons
Jar of Goodness 7.17.22: Picnics
Jar of Goodness 7.10.22: First Aid Kits
Jar of Goodness 7.3.22: My 2003 Honda Civic
Jar of Goodness 6.26.22: This Couple
Jar of Goodness 6.19.22: Dad
Jar of Goodness 6.12.22: Air Conditioning
Jar of Goodness 6.5.22: Butterflies of June
Jar of Goodness 5.29.22: Missouri Wines
Jar of Goodness 5.15.22: The Black Walnut Tree
Jar of Goodness 5.8.22: Mom
Jar of Goodness 5.1.22: Clovers Natural Market
Jar of Goodness 4.24.22: Natural Foods Stores
Jar of Goodness 4.17.22: Oasis United Church of Christ
Jar of Goodness 4.10.22: Prairie Dogtooth Violets
Jar of Goodness 4.3.22: The Violets of April
Jar of Goodness 3.27.22: Lois
Jar of Goodness 3.20.22: Three-Chord Songs
Jar of Goodness 3.13.22: Sue
Jar of Goodness 3.6.22: Are the Neighbors Actually Moving?
Jar of Goodness 2.27.22: New Fridge
Jar of Goodness 2.20.22: The Katy Trail
Jar of Goodness 2.13.22: Adrian’s Island Jefferson City
Jar of Goodness 2.6.22: Hope Springs Eternal
Jar of Goodness 1.30.22: The Mosses at Painted Rock CA
Jar of Goodness 1.23.22: KOPN
Jar of Goodness 1.16.22: The Eggplant Leafrollers
Jar of Goodness 1.9.22 (Introduction)

Friday, December 30, 2022

24-Hour Salad (Overnight Fruit Salad)

This recipe is from Alvina Crawford. She and her husband, Fred, were my parents’ dear neighbors across the street on Isherwood. For many years, she would make overnight salads for friends and family at Christmastime. She’d make so many, over so many days, she’d freeze them so she could deliver them all on the same day.

So this is a holiday recipe for me.

I can replay the scene in my memory: our doorbell would ring, we’d go down the stairs to the front door, open it, and there’d be Mrs. Crawford, holding a big container full of salad. It would be a reused plastic ice cream tub, or a disposable aluminum foil casserole container. Her warm, mild voice, with its notes of rural North Dakota and Scandinavian ancestry. Her Christmas greetings—you could hear the smile in her voice. . . . We’d give her and Mr. Crawford a big platter of our homemade Christmas cookies, covered with foil, decorated with a Christmas bow.

There are lots of versions of this dish online; it’s a classic 1950s salad that doubles as a dessert. In this way, it is a lot like a Jell-O dish: “Is it a salad, or a dessert?” How can you tell? If it’s a salad, you serve it on a lettuce leaf—that makes it a salad instead of a dessert. As a dessert, served in a pretty bowl, it’s great with cookies. After a hearty Christmas meal, you might not want a heavy piece of pie or pudding. A fluffy fruit dessert like this is just the ticket! It’s perfect with Christmas cookies!

Grandma Renner made overnight salad, too. I’m not sure if anyone has her recipe. To the best of our memory, she used large, round, juicy red grapes instead of canned sweet cherries. In those days, you couldn’t get seedless red grapes, so each grape needed to be sliced in half, and the seeds picked out with the knife tip. Tedious; a labor of love. If you use seedless grapes (and why not?), slice them in half in memory of the labors of the past.

Other recipes, by the way, use things like drained canned mandarin orange slices, or real orange or tangerine slices, chopped bananas, and nuts. (Though if you’re making it for me, please don’t add nuts.) This recipe is a lot like an ambrosia salad, which has shredded, sweetened coconut, citrus, and pineapple.

My tips and comments are at the end.

24-Hour Salad (Overnight Salad)

Recipe adapted from Alvina Crawford

Dressing ingredients:

1 c. half and half
4 egg yolks, well-beaten
1 T. butter
1/4 t. salt
1/2 cup sugar
2 cups (1 pint) heavy/whipping cream

Make the dressing first (see notes at end, however). Use a double boiler, or use a heavy saucepan and heat gently. Heat the half and half first. Then add the next ingredients (except for the whipping cream), adding the eggs slowly and carefully so they don’t curdle. Cook, stirring, until definitely thickened. Then, set it aside to cool. This is a good time to prepare the fruit ingredients.

Fruit ingredients:

2 cans (20 oz.) sliced pineapple, drained and sliced (see notes below)
1 can (17 oz.) sweet cherries, drained and halved (or further chopped) [or whole]
[optional: large red grapes, halved and seeded if necessary]
1/2 lb. (24 count) regular-size marshmallows, quartered (or halved)
juice of half a lemon (fold in with the rest)

When fruit ingredients are ready, and collected into a big bowl, and when dressing custard is cooled, whip the heavy/whipping cream until well-whipped. Add the custard/dressing to the fruits, then fold in the whipping cream. Let it stand in the refrigerator for 24 hours (this is an important step).

Serve on lettuce, as a salad, or in dessert dishes as a dessert.

Yield: about 2½ quarts.

Julie’s notes:

Mrs. Crawford noted that, in order to divide the labor, she sometimes would cut up the fruit the day before, then make the custard and whipped cream the second day. “It doesn’t seem like such a long process when divided up.”

Why do you need to buy canned sliced pineapple, and then cut it into smaller pieces? Why not just buy pineapple tidbits? . . . Well, do what you want, but you get prettier pieces, and fewer little blobs of pineapple fragments, if you cut them yourself with a nice sharp knife. (Your knives are sharp, right?)

Also, as I mentioned above, you can freeze this and give it to people frozen; they can decide when to thaw it and enjoy it.

This recipe dates back to the days before they made "mini marshmallows." So you have to buy "regular" marshmallows and cut them! Okay, use mini marshmallows if you want, but quartered or halved "regular" marshmallows are much more fun to eat.

How do you know when the custard is thickened? . . . You will know; it may take a while, but when it thickens, it will happen quickly, and you'll know.

Finally, regarding the canned fruits: in the 1950s, all the canned fruits were in heavy syrup, so that’s the kind I suggest. But use what you want. Although not overly sweet, this isn’t a low-calorie dessert, so avoiding heavy-syrup in the pineapple probably won’t make a big difference.

And what can you do with the syrup you’ve drained off? Here’s an idea: put it in a saucepan, add sugar, maybe also a cinnamon stick, and simmer to reduce it to a bona fide syrup. With the syrup/juice from the canned sweet cherries, the syrup will be pretty purple. You can use this syrup for pancakes! Or, you can add brandy to the syrup and put other canned fruits in it: brandied fruits; great on ice cream!

Sunday, December 25, 2022

Jar of Goodness 12.25.22: The Holiday Season

. . . The weekly virtual “gratitude jar.”

This week, I’m expressing thanks for the holiday season.

Yes, including Christmas, duh. But also for all the other winter solstice–related holidays that humanity celebrates, not least of which is New Year’s. All these winter holidays are “resets” of some kind or other. An urge to remember our higher callings.

This time of year, you cross a bridge. Behind you is the past—a territory to which you can never return. Ahead is the future—a vast, unexplored territory full of new adventures, new things to learn. New year’s, the solstice, even “Festivus” focus on this turning-of-the-page.

Christmas and a wide range of other December religious festivals native to or heavily influenced by North America focus on light and hope. Now, at the darkest, coldest time of the year, we have holidays that emphasize light (including The Light), warmth, peace, love, hope, and joy.

And it’s a time when North America typically experiences hardship: it’s not the growing season, so anything active (birds and mammals) historically struggles for food, which grows scarcer and more precious as the winter drags on. And yet here is also the time for hope and for gift-giving: Here is something precious, for you. I made this for you. Look, a sweet, juicy orange shipped here from tropical lands; a feast; a rich cake full of dried fruits, nuts, and exotic spices.

At the traditional time of scarcity in North America, instead of pinching up and wrapping our arms around our stockpiles of foodstuffs and other goods, and hoarding the money we feel we’ll never get enough of, we are asked to embrace our family and neighbors, even strangers, and to be truly, gladly generous.

And that’s what our religions and spiritual traditions seem always to call us to do: to rise above our animal survival instincts. To act not as competing creatures in nature, but as civilized, empathetic, gracious beings; members of a society. We’re asked to rise above our individual needs, above taking care of only our own family and clan (like some competing, warring tribes)—and instead to care about and help others. To help even the dreaded Samaritans. To care for even the Least of These. We’re called to see the holiness in every being, and in all of creation. We are called to behave, to cooperate, to care . . . and to become much more than competing animals in a jungle.

Bless the beasts and all of the children.

Picture notes: featured in this post are some of the ornaments my mom made in the 1970s. They’re made out of pieces of felt, carefully trimmed and glued together. Aren’t they sweet? I love the multiculturalism it implied, harkening back to a time when Americans were more unified and had a more optimistic view of the world, and all of its diversity. There are several more ornaments that she made, too—stars, birds, tiny Christmas stockings with my and my brother’s names spelled out in glitter, and more. And she made many other types ornaments, too. It seems like she made a series of ornaments each year, of different designs. And she gave them out to everyone in the family. What a wonderful gift!