Apparently, they put out cookbooks in later years, but a search on Bookfinder turns up nothing. The cookbooks were published by the Michigan State Extension Service but I am told: “This group only accepts questions from Michigan. Please do not submit a question unless you live in Michigan,” so there’s no tracking it down that way.
Poking around the Grand Rapids site is fun. This is the 1970 Apple Queen.
Here are the search results for “apple smorgasbord” at the site. Some great old photographs.
ANNUAL APPLE SMORGASBORD APPLE DUFFLE WITH CRUMB TOPPING
Yield: 12 portions
¼ C shortening ½ C sugar ¼ tsp salt 1 egg, beaten 2 C sifted flour 2½ tsp baking powder 1 C milk 4 C pared diced apples Crumb Topping
Preheat oven to 350˚. Cream together shortening and sugar, and beat in salt and egg. Sift together flour and baking powder and add to creamed mixture alternately with milk. Spread dough in a greased 8×12-inch baking pan, cover completely with diced apples, sprinkle with Crumb Topping, and bake 45 to 60 minutes or until Topping is browned.
CRUMB TOPPING
½ C sugar 1/3 C flour ½ tsp ground cinnamon ¼ C (½ stick) butter
Combine sugar, flour, and cinnamon and cut in butter.
These sound like a lovely afternoon snack with a nice cup of tea.
ANNUAL APPLE SMORGASBORD APPLE BUTTERHORNS
Yield: 24 horns
¼ C (½ stick) butter, plus more softened ¼ C lard ¼ C sugar 1 egg, beaten Pinch salt 1 tsp grated lemon rind ¼ C lukewarm milk 1 envelope active dry yeast, dissolved in ¼ C warm, not hot, water 2 C sifted flour 1 C finely chopped apples ½ C finely chopped pitted dates
Melt together ¼ C butter and lard and cool to lukewarm. Mix in egg, salt, lemon rind, lukewarm milk, and dissolved yeast mixture, beat in flour, cover and refrigerate overnight. Divide dough evenly into 3 parts, roll out each part on a floured surface into a 9-inch circle, spread each round with additional softened butter and sprinkle evenly with apples and dates. Cut each topped circle into 8 pie-shaped wedges and beginning at rounded end roll up each wedge and place on a baking sheet “point underneath.” Let rise in a warm place for 2 hours. Preheat oven to 375˚. Bake horns for 12 to 15 minutes.
Thinking about posting a short series of recipes, I searched The Big Food Manual and Survivalist Flourishing Guide for “Autumn.” Our old friend Clementine Paddleford and her How America Eats (1960) once again delivered.
For the Annual Apple Smorgasbord, we’re with Clementine in western Michigan. Here’s how she describes it. (Recipes to follow over the next few days.)
Twin tables stretched across the broad lawn of the farmhouse of apple grower Arnold Schaefer, Sr., in western Michigan. A sight to behold. Each table a plethora of delicacies, 120 different apple dishes made with the local apples—the Northern Spy, McIntosh, Jonathan, Delicious, and a few of the early Wealthy. The occasion was the Annual Apple Smorgasbord prepared by the wives of the Peach Ridge Fruit Growers’ Association which has some 150 members. The orchards range in size from forty to four hundred acres, covering most of Kent and Ottawa Counties with a few in Muskegon.
Here came the women, their cars loaded with food in baskets—apple salad, apple meatloaf, apple bread, relishes, and desserts—each dish made by a favorite family recipe. While the ladies are at work, the menfolk are busy taking guests touring the orchards.
Once Peach Ridge was noted especially for its peaches, so the name. Now it has turned to raising apples—the little apple kingdom running eight miles long, four miles wide. The day of my visit, apples flamed the land, branches bent low with the weight of harvest.
The smorgasbord wasn’t all. There were sampling booths set around the lawn where visitors could overeat before the real eating started. I tried the apple punch one, two, and three times, Next booth under the elms, four women—Mrs. Herbert Reister, a fruit grower’s wife was chairman of the team—were all working furiously, fritters in deep-fat electric fryers. You could have your fritter plain or rolled in powdered sugar or in cinnamon-sugar. I milled through a flock of children to find the center or interest—a booth handing out candied caramel apples.
The long tables were made of planks laid over sawhorses covered with white wrapping paper. Baskets of autumn fruits were centered at intervals down the vast stretch.
Here are a few of the good things. I’m not saying the best—I didn’t taste a fourth of the foods presented, for the choice was inexhaustible.
Annual Apple Smorgasbord Sweet Potatoes and Apples
Annual Apple Smorgasbord Apple Potato Salad
Annual Apple Smorgasbord Apple Sauce Meat Loaf with Topping
Annual Apple Smorgasbord Apple Duffle with Crumb Topping
First link goes to his obituary (1943-2020), second to just one of his cookbooks, Snake, Rattle & Rotel, at that store in the sky.
It’s been simmering about three hours now. I’ll add the masa soon and then just let it sit until it’s time to warm it up for supper.
Just tasted for seasoning. Wow.
SAM’S CHILI WITH SPECIAL TOMATOES
Serves 6-8, but easily multiplied or divided
1 ½ lb beef chuck roast, ground coarse 1 ½ lb pork shoulder, cut into ½ inch chunks 1 large onion, chopped 3 large garlic cloves, minced 3 C beer 1 C Special Tomatoes 8 oz tomato sauce [I used some that we put up the other day] ½ C chili powder 1 Tbsp salt 1 Tbsp ground cumin ½ tsp paprika 2 Tbsp masa mix combined with 3 Tbsp water (for thickening chili)
Cook beef, pork, onion, and garlic in heavy large saucepan or stock pot over medium heat until meat is no longer pink, stirring often to keep meat from sticking to pan. Add beer, then all remaining ingredients except masa-water mix, cover, and simmer chili over low heat, about 3 hours, stirring occasionally. Degrease chili, then stir in masa-water mix. Cover and simmer 30 minutes longer. Refrigerate overnight to blend flavors.
SPECIAL TOMATOES
Makes about 1 C
1 ½ lbs (3 C) tomatoes, seeded and chopped coarse 1 serrano or jalapeno chili, minced (can use pickled) ¾ tsp salt ¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper
Combine all ingredients in heavy small saucepan and cook 10 minutes over medium heat, stirring occasionally.
It’s Marica Cooks Wednesday. Last weekend, when I was looking through the
folder, I came across this recipe. I think about it from time to time but have not made it in years–probably over 40. The recipe originally comes from one of Dionne Lucas’s cookbooks (hit the link to that infallible source–interesting person) but my old copy was typed out and mimeographed. I believe it was my senior year in college, and I’d taken a cooking class from one of my chemistry professors. There were a lot of recipes from Food for Friends (Pillsbury, 1978), which became one of my favorite cookbooks.
Fantastic soup. Bit on the rich side. 🙂
Added while it’s simmering. Rather than following the recipe step by step, I started the mushroom stage while the stock was simmering. Timing worked out perfectly. Added the bay leaves in the last few minutes. “Fine meat chopper.” If I’m not mistaken these were similar to manual nut choppers. I used the mini-food processor bowl that came with the immersion blender. Perfect.
CRÈME DE CHAMPIGNONS
4-6 servings
14 Tbsp (1¾ stick) salt butter 1 Tbsp rice flour 3 C chicken stock Salt, freshly cracked white pepper, both to taste 2 bay leaves ¾ lb. firm white mushrooms, put through a fine meat chopper twice Juice of 1 lemon 2 egg yolks ¾ C light cream ¾ C heavy cream, whipped 1 C fried croutons
Melt 6 Tbsp (¾ stick) of the butter in a deep heavy pan over medium flame. Off flame, stir in rice flour and mix in chicken stock, return to low flame and stir until mixture comes to a boil. Season with salt and pepper and simmer 12 minutes. Add bay leaves and set soup aside.
In a saucepan, heat remaining 8 Tbsp (1 stick) butter until beginning to brown, add ground mushrooms, lemon juice, and salt and pepper and cook very briskly for 3 minutes. Stir ground mushroom mixture into stock mixture and simmer gently for 15 minutes.
In a bowl, mix egg yolks with light cream, stir a little hot soup into mixture “to temper it,” then pour into soup mixture and stir over very low flame 10 minutes without boiling. Remove bay leaves. Serve soup in individual bowls with 1 Tbsp of whipped cream on top of each. Serve a separate bowl of fried croutons.
For the last couple of years, I’ve been trying to teach several generations of deer that there are no tasty exotic treasures to feast on here on the farm. Eat your acorns. So I haven’t had a garden, except for the perennials, volunteers, and grapes. They find the grapes, by the way.
But this year I decided I’d had enough of store bought tomatoes.
I bought and planted one yellow pepper, one jalapeño, and one cherry tomato. I planted six very old cucumber seeds. I also had slips to plant six sweet potatoes. Slips, meaning a couple of the one in that 25 pound box we bought last fall had sprouted. All of this went in one of the raised planters or large pots on the patio.
Sweet potatoes don’t seem as vigorous as usual, but in four to six weeks or so we’ll see.
Cucumbers have a story. I watered for the first week or two and none of the seeds sprouted so I just added another hash mark in the failure column. Six weeks (not kidding) later, there was a single plant. It’s been flowering for several weeks now, but the cukes (if you can call them that) were about the size of a cherry tomato cut in quarters. Yesterday I saw two legit fruits. We’ll see.
Peppers are slowing down, as they do.
But after the typical hot summer lull, the tomatoes are back. That’s this morning’s haul–about three pounds–and that represents maybe one-quarter of what’s still ripening, not to mention the plant is still flowering.
So not too bad, considering what little effort I put into it.
Oh wait! Almost forgot.
There’s a volunteer watermelon way down by the gate to the Pond Pasture. Not quite ready yet, but it’s coming along.
Best guess? The neighbors fed Jack a slice which he ate whole and then–as I do not think donkeys have the capability to spit seeds–the seeds passed through his system and Mother Nature did the rest.
Mr. Big Food was an invited lecturer at the School of Ideas in Neuroscience–a week long summer school of sorts. Most of the participants were grad students and post-docs. The organizers had arranged for the group to walk to a joint on the river for beer and supper on the evening of the first day. Cowboy boots are not walking two miles, so a taxi was arranged. A licensed taxi, everyone assumed.
The three of us chatted it up as we made our way through a crowded business district. I swear I thought the driver ran a red light, and sure enough in a few blocks a siren and red lights. Driver pulled over. Standard procedure except for the back talk the driver gave the cop and the smack the cop gave the driver. Of course, all of this is just a guess as none of us speak Polish.
Driver gets out and cop takes him back to a paddy wagon. By now the three of us no longer think the issue is a red light. Driver comes back, cop opens trunk. Cop takes driver to a second (!) paddy wagon that has shown up. Cop gets in behind the wheel of the taxi and says, “Ride over.”
Okay then.
And here are Mr. Big Food and a guy whose name I cannot remember on a street somewhere in Warsaw. (Note the paddy wagon.)
Fortunately, both the guy and I had phone contact information for two different organizers. Between them they did whatever they did to get a taxi to pick us up and take us to the river venue.
Lots of speculation among the Polish folk about what might have been going on. Unlicensed driver in a taxi with a plate that signified a licensed driver? Drugs? Kidnapping? (It’s okay. I had my knife.) Who knows?
This is the venue. Lovely joint. We had classic Polish beer & pizza.
I stepped away for about 15 minutes to talk to Kat–which was part of a whole ‘nother adventure. Or two, now that I think about it.
From “Using traditional folk stories in untraditional ways in helping children clarify their values and feelings,” in Folk Literature of the British Isles: Readings for librarians, teachers, and those who work with children and young adults, Eloise Speed Norton, ed., The Scarcrow Press, Inc., Metuchen, N.J., 1978.
The remained of this short paper suggests that teachers become story tellers–not just reading to children, but telling the story. The author gives tips–sort of like remedial acting advice–to help the story teller engage the audience and so on.
But let’s see… 46 years on I do not think things have gotten any better.
Near the Faculty of Economics, University of Warsaw, early July
It was a pleasant visit, except for the coming and going (and the taxi drivers which we will come to). Mr. Big Food was occupied all day every day, I think 10 to 5 or so, from Monday through Monday, with a free (hardly) day on Friday. From my travel journal:
“Found a nice shaded spot in a lovely little grove near building where John is. I sharpened my pencil on a rock wall. Am currently moving electrons.
“Small Anker –> new power pack w/ [USB] c that I just got at the little market across the way [the green building in the pic above] –> iPad”
Uncharacteristically, I left the room without the correct cable/power pack. I think the new power pack cost the equivalent of $10. Warsaw is a very affordable city.
An oddity I will mention. See the Sprite? Couldn’t get the top to come off fully. Turns out this is a thing. No tops come completely off (except for vodka bottle). You twist, the seal breaks, but two strands stay connected to the bottle. Could be a trash thing. Maybe choking hazard. Who knows.
Another spot I worked at a few days later when it was a bit too warm to be outside. Quite a lovely room.
More from my travel journal that first Monday:
So I’ve now been in three stores: market, pharmacy, bookstore. The first two are fairly large but very little employee presence. A society of trust?
Next up in the travel posts–our first Taxi Driver Adventure. It’s a real doozy.
For starters, I took time off from blogging. But those who care already know that. No particular reason. Happens some times.
Bought a few crappy old books. Americana: The Literature of American History (Milton Waldman, Henry Holt and Company, New York, 1925) is especially interesting. From the Introduction:
The present book is largely the story of how Johannes Gutenberg, by inventing the art of printing at Mainz in or about 1450, enabled Christopher Columbus, returning from the discovery of America, to found a history instead of inaugurating a legend.
Waldman goes on to elaborate on this point. We may return to it–Columbus Day will be upon us all too soon.
Twenty-two other crappy old books. We’ll get to them as we move forward.
I spent some time planing the menu for a reception at Mr. Big Food’s annual gathering @The Gulf. We’re up to VII, now–and 50 participants. I tried to accommodate all of the folk with various dietary restrictions. Could not have done it without The Girls. They were a tremendous help.
Learned a new word: pescatarian.
Draft of the menu card (front & back).
“American Pancakes”
We went to Poland. What we saw of Warsaw was very nice. Food was great. Vodka, good, though not as good as Finnish. Drank weissbier, which I love. People were interesting. Taxi drivers were the worst. No bookstores to speak of in our area. Had an interesting small world encounter. Oh! Watched progress from our room window overlooking a street. Glad to be back in America. And by America, I mean Mississippi.
Now to figure out what WP has done with Reader so I can catch up.
April 19, 1775. The Battles of Lexington and Concord
We have covered this before, but Longfellow’s “Paul Revere’s Ride,” while a great work in the history of American literature, has a number of historical inaccuracies. If you are interested in a great–and I do mean great–book about Revere and his seminal role in the American Revolution, I recommend Paul Revere’s Ride, by David Hackett Fischer (Oxford University Press, 1994).
Concord Hymn
Ralph Waldo Emerson Sung at the completion of the Battle Monument, July 4, 1837
By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set today a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die, and leave their children free, Bid Time and Nature gently spare The shaft we raise to them and thee.
I know this only because I am doing a little prep work for our daily readings. Mr. Big Food is on his way back from a conference in that hell hole labeled “Memphis” on the map. I was scheduled to go as well but there was an incident here on the farm. You may have seen a photo of Missy a few days ago. It was for the vet. Missy fell and didn’t get up for 22 hours. The vet was comfortable prescribing steroids and muscle relaxers based on a phone conversation, so Missy was medicated within hours.
Four days later, she is just about back to normal.
Back to reading. What follows is a post from 2020 when we were doing daily reading here on the blog.
He was the elder brother of John Wilkes Booth, himself a successful actor who gained notoriety as the assassin of President Lincoln.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edwin_Booth
Overshadowed. Notoriety. Well, sure. I suppose you could say that.
Booth the elder was an extremely successful and good tragedian– [new word for me] an actor who specializes in tragedy. The Pocket Univ. introduction to Booth quotes “Mr. William Winter’s Life and Art of Edwin Booth… “
The salient attributes of Booth’s art were imagination, grace, intense emotion, and melancholy refinement. … But the controlling attribute,– that which imparted individual character, colour and fascination to his acting,– was the thoroughly introspective habit of a stately mind, abstracted from passion and suffused with mournful dreaminess of temperament.
I could not be a theatre critic.
The autobiographical entry on Booth consists of letters. Those to his daughter span 20 years and are really enjoyable. He was a devoted father and seemed like a very nice guy. In one, to a friend in 1864, he talks about how he and his wife had planned their future, and now “the dreams of my past life– so far as my profession is concerned– are being realised.” He was 33 when that letter was written. A little more than a year later– three weeks after the assassination– he writes the friend again. His greatest concern is for his mother, wife, and sister from whom he is separated. But before thanking his friend he writes:
I wish I could see with others’ eyes; all my friends assure me that my name shall be free, and that in a little while I may be where I was and what I was; but alas! it looks dark to me.
Sixteen years later, four years before he died, another letter responded to inquiries about his brother from a Boston book publisher.
For nearly half his life he was not just a tremendous Shakespearian actor, he was the brother of a notorious assassin.
Anyway… .
Stay Well. Stay safe. Enjoy what’s left of the weekend.
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