About the Blog
As I was cleaning out the basement this year (or last year, or the year before, it’s a never ending process), I ran across an old chocolates box. When I opened it, I saw the box was stuffed full of recipes clipped out of magazines and newspapers; handwritten recipes on cards, scraps of paper, and even old check deposit slips; and a photograph of my Grammie and Grampie. My first thought was, “I have to make these recipes!,” while my second thought was, “I need to share these recipes with my cousins!” As a genealogist, it’s important to me to share family artifacts and heirlooms as I hope the rest of the family does with me. Now, I didn’t just want to scan the recipes and email them over to my cousins so I’ve decided to make a cookbook complete with photos of each dish using just the handwritten recipes. I think it will make a fantastic Christmas present!
Honestly, I don’t know if my Grammie ever made any of these recipes or not. Most of them have names on them so I’m not sure if she got them through a women’s group or was just trading recipes with her friends. She wasn’t exactly known as a great cook so I’m a little nervous to make some of dishes. As someone who likes to eat and feed her family using as many whole and organic foods as possible, I shuddered as I read some of the ingredients. While trying to stay as true as possible to the ingredients list, there are will be some substitutions (Oleo? No thank you!). And there are a LOT of sweets to make (though not as many jello salads as I had originally feared). I may have to enlist the help of some friends to eat all these sweet treats!
I started this blog to help me on my journey From Box to Book. The blog will include the recipes I use, my family’s reaction to them, and photos of Grammie with a bit of genealogy sprinkled in. Thanks for checking us out (and wish our waistlines luck)!
Abby
About Grammie
Inez, also known as my Grammie, was a wonderful woman with a wattle. Like, a legit turkey-like wattle under her neck and she used to get sooooo mad when I played with it. In my defense, I was a little kid and it was so soft! Weird, I know. I loved Grammie and Grampie and visiting them in the summers. There were always fresh grapes growing in the back yard and a tinkle of music every time the kitchen door opened. Their kitchen was red and white. And when I say red and white, I mean EVERYTHING was either red or white. The carpet (in the kitchen! Gross!) was red as was the formica counter top. The cabinets were white and the back door which led into the kitchen was hung with red and white beads. Every time the door opened, a music box turned on and played a little jingle while the door was open. Just thinking about it makes me happy! I have always had a little red in my kitchen to honor Grammie.
Inez was born in 1910 on an idyllic farm in north western Illinois, the first of four sisters and two brothers. When she was five years old, her sister, Doris, was born pre-maturely. The doctor arrived by horse and buggy and told Grammie’s mother, Lavina, to put Doris in the oven to keep her warm (Doris lived to the ripe old age of 94). Later, Inez worked in the doctors lunch room at the local hospital and married my Grampie, George, at a time when married women weren’t allowed to work. In fact, they got married in the next state and kept their marriage a secret for a whole year just so Grammie could continue to work. They settled down in a small pink house near the farm and had two sons fourteen years apart, the first in 1934 and the second in 1947 (my dad). Grammie and Grampie were regular church goers and belonged to a several community groups. Grampie was involved in Boy Scouts throughout his life. Grammie was a housewife with, based on the number of recipes she had stuffed in the chocolate box, culinary dreams. My sweet Grammie passed away in 1993.
About the Author
About the Author
My name is Abby and I’m a full time mom, genealogist, and now blogger. My 12 year old and husband are amazing people and, unfortunately for them, will be my guinea pigs in this little endeavor. I have a 1 year old who is absolutely adorable and explained to me in no uncertain terms that he will not be trying a single recipe.
From Box to Book 