Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

I have a special fondness for pot pie. It's one of those all-in-one meals that always hits my comfort spot. And it's a welcome dish to eat on a cold and rainy day like the ones we're having this season. The origins of pot pies can be traced back to the English settlers who brought their love for pies to America. In the States I had never eaten a savory pie. It was always the frozen pies that scared me into believing that pies were no good. Not until my traveling in England did I finally eat my first savory pie. On first bite I fell in love with the flavorful meat and vegetable filling topped with flaky, buttery pastry.

While studying abroad in London, I came to know and appreciate the local cuisine. It was the discovery of a small eatery that really caught my attention and helped change my mind about pies. Every day on my way to class through an alley passage I couldn't help but notice a sign that read "Upstairs Pie Room" right next to an unassuming door. One day a group of us decided to find out what this room was all about. We discovered a homey little restaurant with a menu of traditional English savory pies. It was was one of the best things that could happen. That summer the Pie Room ended up becoming a regular haunt for all of us. The experience turned out to be one of my most memorable, one that I repeated many times until I had tried every pie on the menu.

When was the last time you ate a date bar? I haven’t had one in years. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve even given thought to that deliciously sweet, rich layered dessert.

Not long ago, I received an email request for a date bar recipe. My thoughts swiftly went back to the date bars my dad’s cousin used to make using a recipe that had been in my dad’s family for years — maybe generations. Following the visions of date bars running through my head came the date-filled cookies I used to get from the Rothsay Truck Stop. On my trips from Fargo to Minneapolis, I could never pass up the I-94 exit that took my car up the ramp and right into a parking spot in front of the large plate glass window that looked into the little cafe attached to the gas station. I’d walk up to the counter lined with bar stools and order half dozen of the homemade date-filled cookies. A waitress would pull the large, soft cookies from a glass jar on a shelf and slide them into a paper bag. Chewy and not too sweet, they were a date-lovers dream. They were an easy snack to eat out of hand in the car. The truck-stop cafe is still there. The date-filled cookies are not.

In 1919, after the end of World War I, Woodrow Wilson declared the first Armistice Day.

His mother, Jesse Woodrow Wilson, 1826-1888, wrote a handwritten recipe book. Among the recipes was one labeled - "Woodrow's favorite - Charlotte Russe" see below...

"Put in a kettle one ounce of gelatin, one quart of water, one-half pint of milk, one pound of sugar, yolks of four eggs and four spoons of sugar. When these ingredients are well mixed pour them upon yolks, and scald them -- stirring all the while; then strain it through a sieve ane pour it while hot on the four whites which must be beaten to a froth. Stir it constantly -- when it is cold, add a syllabub prepared as follows: One-half pint of cream, the remainder of the sugar, churn it, then lay it upon a sieve so that all the milk may drain out. Stir constantly until cold."

“Eat poor that day, eat rich the rest of the year… Rice for riches and peas for peace.” – Old Southern saying for New Year’s Menu

Collard greens, black eyed peas, cornbread and pork are the foodstuffs of the South, rich in legend, lore, and superstition. Money or not, every Southern family I know dines on these same vittles for their New Year’s supper. Not too poor of eating if I say so myself.

According to this Farmer, the New Year’s Day menu is a Southern supper at its finest. Steeped in tradition, flavored with history, and doused with a touch of superstition, this meal encompasses the South’s ebb and flow of classicism and eccentricity–a meal of our heritage. Here in America’s Deep South, the cultures of Europe, Africa and the Native Americans combine with their respected refinements and sentimentalities making this meal fit to usher in a new year.

Growing up in rural Middle Georgia, we knew our food’s legacy before it arrived on our tables. This Farm to Table movement of late has always been the custom for those of us raised in a more bucolic fashion. We know our farmers and growers. In his blessings before a meal, my brother-in-law’s father always gives thanks for “not only the hands that prepared the food but grew it as well...” whereas our New Year’s meal is of no exception.