The Discovery of New Recipes

My Grandmother Hyatt was snowed in one winter at our house.  Alone in someone else's house for several days, my grandmother turned to baking to occupy her time.  After exploring several of my mother's cookbook, she settled on a recipe for Ginger Snaps (I believe the cookbook was 'The Joy of Cooking').  My father, who has a love of traditional, slightly arcane foods had recently purchased molasses from Forest Sykes.  Mr. Sykes lived nearby and was the only person that I knew of who grew sorghum and made molasses.

I remember accompanying Dad on the trip to buy the molasses.  It was a Sunday afternoon and it took most of the afternoon to make the deal.  Dad and Mr. Sykes were not particularly close, but both liked to visit and this was not a trip to store.  No one waited in line behind us.

The circumstances that found my grandmother alone at our house are something like this:  My parents were  on a trip (either Las Vegas or Hawaii) and my grandparents were staying with us.  They lived on a farm nearby, but stayed at our house so that we could ride the school bus.  In the morning, my brother and I went to school and Granddad went to his farm to feed the cattle.  Grandmother stayed at our house to clean.  Grandmother was a neat freak, my mother was raising two sons and working.  Her standards for cleanliness were somewhat below my grandmother's.  My grandparents had stayed with us several times previous to this and Grandmother always cleaned the house while they were away.  This infuriated my mother, but each time the pattern repeated.

As Grandmother cleaned, it began to snow and school was closed.  My other grandfather picked us up at school and took us to his house.  We were soon snowed in there.  Granddad Hyatt was snowed in at his house and Grandmother was snowed in at our house.  This situation persisted for several days.  When the cleaning was done and the Ginger Snap recipe was found, Grandmother began to bake.  Dad's prized molasses was depleted and replaced with delicious cookies that became a staple in Grandmother's cookie jar for the rest of her life.

I thought of this story as I was sitting here snowed in at my own home.  I have no desire to clean, but do enjoy baking.  Some time ago, I discovered a recipe for a cookie similar to something that Grandmother used to bake (Grandmother's actual recipe was later uncovered by my cousin Heather).  I continue to use the recipe that I found on-line.  The recipe that Heather had, though from Grandmother, was never the way Grandmother made it.  Grandmother was famous for substituting and improvising and this particular recipe was one that she substituted liberally on.  I think that is why I don't use it -- it is close but never quite right because Grandmother's was never the same way twice.  The other recipe, the one I found on-line, is close enough to evoke the memory, but not close enough to make me miss her as much.

Anyway, in typical snow storm fashion, I lacked all the ingredients.  I only had one egg, not two and had no chocolate for the topping.  I improvised by cutting the recipe in half to make the proportions work.  I added raisins and left off the chocolate.  Though Grandmother never made these, they do remind me of her.  Here's a picture of the cookies.  Unfortunately, I don't have a photograph of Grandmother.