Grammy
This began as an idea to find the recipe for a favorite cookie that my grandmother used to make. Most of her recipes were memorized, but some were written on index cards, “From the Kitchen of Irene”, in her spidery script. After she passed away a dozen years ago, my sister and I shared her many, many cookbooks; but, alas, her file box of recipes has been lost along the way.
Recently I used the term “comfort food” in reference to macaroni and cheese. The younger kids hadn’t heard the term before, so I grasped for examples to help me explain it. “Like Grammy’s hermits!” I exclaimed. These younger two never knew Gram, and had never eaten one of her hermits. Hence my idea to put it out there to the blogosphere – would one of my imaginary friends have a recipe that comes close to Gram’s?
I started to write the post. The stopped — see Take One, below, who wants to read about my grandmother smoking while baking? A significant memory for me – she stopped smoking when I was about eight and asked her to stop, for me. She signed a pledge that I wrote, and never smoked again- but I can see how it doesn’t match the grandma-in-an-apron image that might appeal to the masses.
Take Two includes the phrase “master of many domains” which instantly brings to mind a certain Seinfeld episode. Not exactly the juxtaposition I was looking for.
In the spirit of my Wednesday morning writing workshop, which is modeled on Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones (just do it. Don’t stop. Don’t edit. Don’t think), I began again:
Take One: “Ash your ashes, Grammy!” I called to Gram as she puffed away on her Tiparillos. The cigar ash was getting dangerously
long, starting to curve downward; I was afraid it would fall into the bowl of dough she was kneading
Take Two: Gram was a master of many domains – she cooked, baked, sewed, knitted, gardened
Take Three: I’ve started this essay three times now, with a memory of my Gram that put me back in the kitchen with her. I’d stand on a wooden stool in that small space (a work “trianglette” you might say) and watch her work – from simmering sauce and roasting turkeys to baking bread and making sweet treats, she did it all.
Gram readies the Thanksgiving turkey
“All” included making my favorite breakfast foods when I stayed over (or if we were having “breakfast for dinner”): pancakes in the shape of a D, porridge with raisins and lots of brown sugar (even if I make them instant oatmeal my kids are trained to call it “porridge”, that’s the vocabulary they’ve known). My favorite dinner (aside from the Thanksgiving menu, which could be a post on its own) was a “bean sandwich” that she let me concoct with a hot dog in a roll, baked beans, chopped onion, ketchup, relish, and mustard. Talk about a loaded dog!
Young Dawn washing dishes "up the lake" (NH cottage), 1970
Gram was really good that way – letting us be creative in the kitchen and at the dinner table. I think that if my kids wanted to put baked beans in a hotdog roll I’d likely tell them to stop playing and eat their dinners! She encouraged me to stand on that stool and get involved – measuring and adding ingredients, mixing batter, and (my favorite) licking the spoons and beaters (we didn’t worry about raw eggs back then!)
Our house was only about five miles to the south of Gram and Gramp’s house; we visited with them at least once a week. Gram always sent us home with a tin or jar full of treats – thumbprint cookies, sugar cookies, applesauce cake and stewed rhubarb come to mind immediately. We’d make short work of the treats and return the empty tin on our next visit, often tucking a note inside that said “I’m empty. Fill me, please.”
I was especially pleased when we found Gram’s hermits in the tin. These were gingerbread bar cookies – soft and chewy, studded with raisins and sprinkled with sugar on top. Gram didn’t cut them into dainty little 1×3-inch bars, they were more like slabs, 4-inch squares of sweets and spices, plump raisins, and crunchy sugar; the perfect mix of tastes and textures, and firm enough to dunk into a cold glass of milk before taking a bite.
I would love to bake “Gram’s hermits” for my kids. OK, I’d love to bake them for me (and share the recipe with my sister). There are dozens of recipes online, but I want to start with one that tried and true; if I need to tweak it for the second batch, I can.
What do you say, blogosphere? Have you baked hermits? Can you share the recipe with me? Is there another food which screams “Gram!” (or, “Mom!”) when you think of it?
See what else is happening in the kitchens of the blogosphere this weekend. Check out Beth Fish Reads’ Weekend Cooking to find links to other food-related posts. There may be book reviews, recipes, kitchen gadget tips and tricks …
I almost choked on my coffee at this “master of many domains” — not the image I wanted! Lovely post — and made me think of both my grandmothers who were awesome cooks and heavily influenced my method of cooking and baking (The recipe says I should do what? I’m not doing it that way!).
I am off to hunt down my family’s hermit bars.
Oh!!! For some reason the photos didn’t pop up until I submitted my comment. I love your photos — Grammy looks so, well grammy-like! And young Dawn is so cute!
I don’t even know what hermits are — is that awful? My grandmother’s risotto is probably the first that comes to mind. But my other grandmother was an awesome baker. I actually compiled a family cookbook with my grandmother’s 11 siblings and their kids and grandkids so we’d all have a family treasure with favorite recipes.
sorry….never made a hermit and while I have heard of them, I have never eaten one.
I must say though that I laughed at the image of your grandmother’s ash about to fall into her cooking…because I remember the same thing with my grandmother! Stirring that pot of mac and cheese, my fav, about to go into the oven, the ash growing longer and longer. Would it fall? Would it make it into the oven first?
As a wee Caite, I found it fascinating…lol
Sorry, this is my first time even hearing of hermits, but they sound great, and I hope someone can help you find a good recipe for them! What a great post for a Saturday morning, though, I’m sure I could picture your gram even without all the great pictures. =D
I wish I could write up a pledge that would get my own gram (and my mom, for that matter) to stop smoking for good… =/
I loved this essay. You took me right into the kitchen with your Gram and you. I’ve only made Hermits a couple of times. They are in the Betty Crocker Cookie Cookbook which has been my main source for cookies recipes for 40 plus years.
I just checked my book and Hermits are in the back in the section on cookies from various generations. Hermits are shown as the favorite from 1880 to 1890. What’s unusual about this recipe is that it calls for 1/2 cup of cold coffee but it does have the raisins and nuts you mentioned. If you’d like the recipe, just let me know and I’ll send it to you.
I can’t help you with the hermit recipe, but I wanted to tell you how glad I am you wrote this essay and shared it with us. I loved it! And although I have a feeling my gram and yours were two very different people, the memories of my gram in the kitchen came flooding back to me as I read your gram’s story. It is really special to have had a relationship with a gram as a child…
What a wonderful post! I have never heard of hermits before but I hope someone comes up with a recipe for you …
I hope someone is able to help you find a tried-and-true hermit recipe, Dawn … alas, ’tisn’t me. Loved this post, especially the cigar ashes almost falling into the dish. (Natalie Goldberg would be proud ….)
Aww – this post brings back so many memories of helping my Grandma in the kitchen. She didn’t live close enough for regular visits, but we got to go to her house once or twice a year. I loved my times in the kitchen with Grandma. Very special memories.
Can’t help you with Hermits, never heard of them.
What a beautiful and intimate post that you’ve shared with us. I hope that you are able to find that recipe, or at least something close to it.
I have made hermits before — decades ago
I loved the essay, but especially loved the pictures. I wish I had all my childhood photos in a digital format. That will be one of the first projects I complete once I retire.
Your post makes me melancholy for my granmothers, both of whom baked, but Grandma Smith was in a league all of her own. I don’t remember ever having hermits, but Grandma Smith would have figured it out. She was like Jesus and the fish…from a pantry of paltry contents, she could feed 20 hungry farmers. I miss her.
I remember Grammy showing me how to make omelets; it was an art. I also remember that I was always wearing an apron when I cooked with her.
Beth – I had fun sifting thru a box of photos this morning – I just snapped the pics with my phone (must archive them better!)
Julie – what an awesome collection that must be; you’re so fortunate to be able to put those memories together.
caite – Oh, more than once I cried “ash your ashes!”. I never saw any fall into what she was baking …
Megan – she kept that piece of paper with the pledge for the longest time, and loved to tell the story of how she stopped smoking.
Margot – I don’t remember seeing her put coffee in the batter, but that may be … if I can’t find this cookbook at the library, then, yes, I’ll ask you for the recipe – thank you! I’m thinking I might enjoy looking thru the book.
Wendy – once I started writing it,boy, did the memories come flooding back. Then I found the pics and I remembered even more. I must keep putting these stories down, my kids enjoy them, too.
Heather – if I find a recipe that jives with my memory of the hermits, I’ll be sure to post it.
Melissa – yeah, I’ve just got to get past that ‘monkey brain’ and keep writing
SuziQ – I wonder if they were popular only in this region?
Peachy – thanks! There are several I’ve found online, but I was hoping to start my baking experiment with a recipe recommended by a friend.
Molly – these pics are stored in an old shoebox! Oh, the projects that await us “when we have time”
Sandy – that’s a true talent, to be able to throw together something delicious and satisfying from food that’s around the house.
Nicole – and I don’t have a memory of Gram’s omelets, isnt’ that funny?! J would laugh because even in her last years, when we went to visit her and it was 90+ degrees in Florida she’d make us hot porridge for breakfast
Funny–I have been working on a hermit recipe recently. I grew up in central Connecticut and loved the hermits made by the Viking Bakery, which also delivered limpa bread to the camp I attended as a kid.
Here’s the recipe. I started with “Naomi Morash’s Hermits” from Judith & Evan Jones’ LL Bean Book of New New England Cookery (1987).
3/4 cup butter (1 1/2 sticks)
2/3 cup sugar
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
2 eggs
3 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 cup molasses mixed with 1/8 cup warm water
1 cup raisins
1 cup broken nuts (I use pecans)
GLAZE: 1 beaten egg
**1 tablespoon instant coffee
(**This is my adaptation. I too remembered the coffee flavor. Mix the instant coffee in with the molasses & warm water.)
Cream the butter with the sugars, then beat in two eggs. Toss together flour, salt, baking powder & spices, then add to the butter-sugar mixture along with molasses mix. Fold in raisins & nuts. Spread batter into two strips per greased cookie sheet–shaping with floured hands into shapes about 10 x 3 inches long, spaced several inches apart (think biscotti). Paint tops of the four strips with egg glaze. Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for 15-25 minutes, depending on how crisp you like your hermits. (I needed 25, but they were still chewy.) While still warm, cut each strip into about 9 bars. (I too remember the 4″ squares, but this recipe would then only make 18 instead of 36.)
This tastes pretty close to the hermits of my childhood to me, but they are not dark enough. What do you think?
Martha
I’ve never heard of “hermits” but Martha’s recipe sounds great! We didn’t get to spend much time with either of my grandma’s–not long enough to help them in the kitchen, but so many of my childhood memories of them center around food. I had one traditional housecoat grandma who always made loads of sweets and one that smoked, drank and fished. She was more prone to try fancy things that we kids turned our noises up at.
This web site has a bunch of hermit cookie recipes that are all from cookbooks that grandma might have read (1880s-1930s or so). It’s actually an interesting site even if you don’t need it for the recipe.
Oh how stupid. Darn me and that “submit” button! Here it is:
http://www.homemade-dessert-recipes.com/hermit-cookie-recipes.html
What a nice tribute to your Grammy! She sounds like quite a character. After reading about her treats, I wish I had a recipe for hermits.
I love reading personal posts like this one. I never had a grandma growing up. It wasn’t until I got married that I actually felt like I had one. My husband’s grandparents made me feel right at home. The cooking, the smells of their house when we visited, etc. This post made me remember them. Thanks for sharing.
that, was, a wonderful read.
thank you for sharing, including your initial takes.
perspective makes all the difference.
hope you find your recipe, if not, let me know, and i can share my grandma’s microwave peanut brittle recipe.. passed, lost found, lost, found, rewritten to a notebook, lost and eventually put into my file cabinet for safe keeping
Thanks you, Martha!! Those sound fabulous. One of my grandmother’s made hermits, but hers were drop cookies and didn’t contain ginger. I’m going to try the recipe you provided.
Martha – yum, thanks for the recipe (and for making me curious as to what ‘limpa bread’ is). Gram’s hermits didn’t have nuts, but I’ll try this with the nuts omitted … will report back … thank you!
Lisa – you might try writing about those food-centered memories. I had such fun with this, and a whole bunch of other tangents have bubbled up. The pic with the dough overflowing the bowl also shows a ceramic box marked ‘salt’. I have this box of Gram’s, but I couldn’t remember where it sat in her kitchen. Now I have a better mental picture of what the space looked like.
rhapsody – thanks for that link. I can easily get lost in sites like this one, reading more and more … especially if there’s a side story about the recipe or tradition.
Kathy – I’m going to try the one Martha posted and the one Margot suggested; will let you know if either one matches my memory.
Ti – so nice that your husband’s grandparents filled that void. My kids have grandparents, but we all live so far away from each other; it’s a different experience.
erisian – oh, peanut brittle, yum! I’m glad to know you have the recipe in a safe place after all its adventures
This is such a wonderful and awesome essay about your Grammy. I inherited all of my Nana’s recipes as well, and there are a few missing, so I totally get where you are coming from. I just loved the pictures and think this is a wonderful tribute to your grandmother.
I’ve never made hermit cookies but heard of them many times. I thought they were the soft, but firm cookies my grandmother made with the coconut and chipits and such, I don’t know what she called them. She’s in a retirment home now and doesn’t cook anymore. For her, baking was her stress managment system. I agree with her on that. My cousin took grandmother’s recipe book and was supposed to copy it for us, but in 3 years, I haven’t seen anything from it. hmmm. Good luck with the recipe quest.
Dawn,
Limpa bread is a Swedish rye flavored with orange peel, ground anise & ground fennel. It can be pretty subtle, or if you add more, a little spicy and a little sweet. The Viking Bakery made limpa that was subtly flavored, and just plain sublime with butter.
[...] some of our dust bunnies!). Earlier this year I shared a tribute to her baking magic in my “In Search of Grammy’s Hermit Recipe” [...]
[...] for-EVER! Well, off-and-on for several years, heating up a year ago when I posted my “In Search of Grammy’s Hermit Recipe” post, even trekking to a vintage cookbook store in New York, hoping to spy something [...]