Sunday Dinner: Family Pictures and Stories

When I was a little girl, my paternal grandfather, Papa Clyde would allow me to look through his family book, a most prized possession his Aunt Daisy had written, assembled, and illustrated. In it were family pictures, records of births, deaths, and marriages, and family stories.

I've read that book cover to cover. I would look into the pictures searching for familiar family traits in them. At the time, I didn't always see it. Now when I look I see my father when I look at the image of his great great grandfather. When I look at my Aunt Daisy's childhood photo, I see a little of myself, but not too much for I am my mother's daughter and my features are more like hers.

A page from the family album

What a treasure this book has been to me. The original book is stored away at my uncle's house, but I convinced him years ago to let me borrow it. I scanned all the pages and returned it to him. A treasure like that is so priceless, I was terrified my daughter might find it, and if you know her, you know she is accident prone. That child, woman now, has broken more things than anyone I know. Perhaps she is misfortunate, but I try not to let her near anything with sentimental value.

I was in a writer's craft lecture yesterday and the author, Cary Holladay talked about a family diary she had come across. I immediately thought of my own family's and then I realized that all those years ago while perusing those pages and reading the history influenced me more than I knew.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to learn to read because I watched my grandmother's face transform as she read. I saw the tears she brushed away and heard her giggle and often laugh at loud at something she had read. I pestered her and she taught me. My mother didn't realize I could read until one day I picked up the TV guide and told her what was coming on television that night. Watching my grandmother was the birth of a dream, a little girl who wanted to write books in order to make people cry and laugh out loud.

But it was my Aunt Daisy's family history book that further infused this dream. When I introduced myself to the class on the first day, I told them my name, about my children, but most importantly that now with my children grown, I have the opportunity to bring that little girl's dream true.

We won't be having Sunday dinner today since I will be at lectures and workshops with the Converse College low residency MFA. Check back next week. We'll be celebrating a couple of birthdays and anniversaries - a little late, but I'm sure my family understands.

Sunday Dinner: Chocolate Chip Cookies

The delicious smell calls to you the minute you walk through the door, there waiting for you are fresh baked cookies and a glass of milk. My Mama wasn't really the kind to have fresh baked cookies waiting for you when you came home from school, but that didn't mean she wasn't a good Mama.

I came home from school crying because nobody picked me for their kickball team, they had to take me.

"Are you going to cry about it or do something?" she said.

"What can I do?" I whined.

She took me outside. We only had a basketball, but it would do. There in the backyard, she first taught me the rules. She rolled the ball and taught me to wait for the kick. She taught me how to align myself and to get some momentum from the ball. I was not a very coordinated child, never had been, but we worked that afternoon and every afternoon for a couple of weeks.

The time came when a team had to take me. It was my turn. Everyone came in from the outfield. They laughed at me. The ball rolled faster than usual towards me. I waited, preparing myself for the right moment, and then I stepped up kicking the ball. It went in a nice beautiful arc, just beyond the infield. Nobody was there, they all went running, chasing after the rolling ball. All my teammates crossed home plate and I made it to third. 

That afternoon when Mama got home from work, I told her about my victory. She was so proud of me. We went outside and practiced for a bit.

After that day, I was never chosen first, but at least the team was happy to have me rather than being forced to accept me. 

Mama taught me to practice. 

Practice and perseverance might not make you perfect, but it can definitely make you proficient.

For Sunday dinner today, I'm taking it easy. We're having tacos. And for dessert, we'll be having chocolate chip cookies.

You can find the recipe my Mama used and passed down to me here. You can also find it on the back of the package of Nestle Tollhouse Chocolate Chips. I've tried others, but to me, these are the best. I leave out the nuts, my family is not a big fan. Sometimes I add peanut butter chips too.

Happy Mother's Day!

If your Mom is still with you, take a moment to tell her how much she means to you. 

I find it hard to fathom, but some people didn't grow up with exceptional mothers like mine. If you are one of those unfortunate people, why don't you think instead of the grandmother, aunt, teacher, or any woman who came along beside you to help you during your youth. I know they will appreciate it and it will make you feel better.

Sunday Dinner: Appalachian Wedding Cake

Appalachian Wedding Cake

Today I have a guest post from Susan Tekulve, the author of In the Garden of Stone.

I came to know my mother-in-law, Mary, through the recipes she gave to me. In my memory, I always see and hear Mary in the kitchen of the two-story brick house my father-in-law built after he retired from the Norfolk and Southern Railroad, in the mountain town of Bluefield, Virginia, where Mary had lived all her life, and raised all five of her children.  When my husband, Rick, and I went back to Virginia for a visit, Mary and I often woke before dawn and sat across from each other at the kitchen table, waiting for the sun to rise, and for the rest of the house to wake.  Sometimes, we peeled apples together. Rick’s grandmother still lived back on the family’s home place, on a ridge between a limestone quarry and the town’s cemetery.  Below the grandmother’s house was a green apple tree that continually dropped spotted, lopsided apples onto the gravel drive leading to the grandmother’s house.  Rick’s father wouldn’t throw any of the fallen fruit away.  Summers, he brought home a bushel basket full of bruised and torn apples every evening, after he’d been up to check on his mother.  

Mary and I would stand in the morning quiet of her kitchen, peeling and discarding the damaged spots off each apple, dropping the good slices into a pot of water, sugar, cinnamon and cloves, boiling this mixture into dark brown apple butter. While the apples simmered, Mary baked six thin layers of a gingery molasses cake, three at a time, in three well-seasoned cast iron skillets. When the cake layers cooled, she stacked them, frosting each layer with the apple butter.  The cake was supposed to “age” for a day, so that the apple butter could soak into the spiced layers until they became sweet and delicate.  Nobody in the house ever waited for this cake to age.  They ate it young, right after supper, which was always served at midday at my in-law’s house.  

Mary called this dessert molasses cake, or apple stack cake. Though she made this cake for all kinds of family gatherings, it was once the traditional wedding cake at Appalachian weddings.  The brides who lived on the remote sides of these Southern mountains relied on their guests to bring a thin layer of molasses cake when they arrived at the wedding, and the brides’ family members would assemble the cake, spreading apple butter between the layers. It is said that the popularity of the bride determined the final height of the cake.

This is a humble-looking cake that most women of this region make without a written recipe.  It’s not difficult. It requires only the patience for simmering a bushel of apples into butter, and waiting for six layers of cake to bake. While we waited for the cake layers to cool, Mary often told stories about her family.  She’d grown up in a trailer on the other side of Bluefield, on a ridge known locally as Dump Hill.  My father-in-law always said that Mary’s early upbringing was so rough that the details of what happened to her as a child on Dump Hill could not be repeated.  Though she hardly ever spoke of herself, Mary told stories about the women of her family.  These women married young and faced almost unendurable hardships—poverty, abandonment, violence--and endured.   

Perhaps the bitterness of Mary’s past was what prompted her to adore anything sweet. Perhaps her hardscrabble childhood and early marriage made her into the genuinely kind mother woman who readily adopted me as her daughter-in-law, and taught me how to make the Appalachian wedding cake recipe she’d learned from her own mother-in-law. 

When Mary passed away from cancer, Rick’s father began making all of Mary’s dessert recipes—brown sugar fudge, chess pie, and banana pudding—for the family. The last time Rick and I visited Virginia, I woke early and found Rick’s father in the kitchen. The whole house smelled warmly of the ginger and molasses cakes that he’d been baking while the rest of the house slept.  As he assembled and iced the cake layers, his grizzled face softened, turning almost boyish.  I could tell he was remembering Mary, perhaps recalling her as a young wife, still healthy enough to stand in that kitchen for hours, peeling those homely apples, baking those humble layers of cake.  Larry had baked his cake layers in different sized skillets, and he’d iced the layers with cooked apples rather than apple butter.  The finished cake looked a bit like a lopsided beehive, but there was no mistaking.  It was an Appalachian wedding cake.    We ate it “young,” drizzled with caramel, and dusted with powdered sugar. 

Here is the recipe for Appalachian Wedding Cake.  I use 3  9-inch cake pans instead of 3 cast iron skillets—mainly because I don’t own 3 cast iron skillets that are the same size.  If I don’t have the time to make my own, I use apple butter that you can find at produce stands or at church bake sales.  I pretty up the cake a little, dusting the assembled layers with powdered sugar, drizzling the top and sides with caramel sauce, garnishing it with a few slices of dried apples.  

Appalachian Wedding Cake

1 cup sugar

1 cup unsalted butter, room temp.

1 cup molasses

3 eggs

4 cups all purpose flour

1 tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. ground ginger

1 tsp. cinnamon

½ tsp. ground clove

1 cup buttermilk

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 ½ cups apple butter, preferably homemade

powdered sugar, for dusting

Dried apples and caramel sauce for decorating

Method:  Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Grease 3 9-inch cake pans.  Combine all dry ingredients and sift.  Cream butter and sugar together.  Add molasses and eggs and mix until combined.  Alternating dry and wet, add in sifted flour mixture and buttermilk.  Stir in vanilla extract and divide half the batter among the three greased cake pans.  Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean when tested in the center of a cake.  Let cool for a few minutes, then invert cakes onto paper plates.  Bake the other half of the batter.

When all cakes have cooled, spread several tablespoons of the apple butter on each layer—stacking as you go.  Wrap cake tightly and let “mature” for a day.  Or, if you can’t wait that long, dust finished cake with powdered sugar and serve.

I hoped you've enjoyed Susan's post.

Please check back tomorrow for my review on the She Reads May Selection, Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline.

On Tuesday I will be reviewing Susan Tekulve's In the Garden of Stone.

Sunday Dinner: A Visit to the Biltmore House in Asheville, NC

Biltmore House in Asheville, NC

Yesterday my fiancé and I went to the Biltmore Estate. It is only an hour away, but I've never been before and I've lived in this area all of my life. Chuck surprised me with season passes to the estate so that we could enjoy the spring and summer flowers, fall foliage, and Christmas at Biltmore. All of these are supposed to be spectacular sights.

Gardens at Biltmore on April 27, 2013. Picture by Julie Scruggs.

Biltmore was built by George Vanderbilt in 1895. The cottage was only a day's rail trip from New York. At the time he built the home, he was still a bachelor, but that would soon change when he met the lovely, Edith and they made their home at Biltmore. Their home soon became a place for their family and friends to visit. They opened their home giving them a place to relax and have fun. Edith Wharton, a famous writer of the time was often a frequent guest.

Edith Vanderbilt and her daughter, Cornelia

Edith strived to make her guests as comfortable as possible. She would spend her mornings planning the meals and the day's events. Some of the amenities their guests could enjoy were a heated indoor pool as well as a bowling alley. This is the early part of the twentieth century when many homes didn't have indoor bathrooms or electricity.

People have often commented when they find out about Sunday dinners I cook about how difficult that must be. It is challenging and often time consuming, but it is so rewarding to have my family and friends at my home for a meal. Sure we could go to a restaurant, but there you're confined and really only able to converse with those seated beside you.

Today I'm taking it easy, we're having chicken (cooked in the deli at the local grocery store), mashed potatoes, green beans, macaroni and cheese, brown and serve rolls, and a cake (baked in the bakery at the local grocery store). Sunday dinner doesn't always have to be an elaborate meal. All of this will take less than an hour to pull together, but it is so worth the time and energy it takes to have time to spend with my grown children, my grandson, my father, my brothers and their families, and friends. I encourage you to skip the restaurant and invite everyone over.

Sunday Dinner: Happy Birthday to Me and My Brother, Randall

Randall and Connie

I was only three years old when I celebrated my birthday alone for the last time. My little brother, Randall was born the year I turned four. He did actually miss the actual day, but with our birthdays only twenty-four hours apart, there were many shared birthday parties and cakes.

When we were kids birthday parties were held in your kitchen or your backyard if the weather permitted. There weren't any special decorations or goody bags. You had a cake usually baked by your mother, Kool-Aid, and a birthday present. Sometimes we had ice cream, but not always.

One year, we each had our very own cake. My birthday is the 22nd, while Randall's is the 23rd. On the 22nd, Mama invited all the kids from the neighborhood for cake and Kool-Aid. When everyone left, there was a small solitary piece of cake.

As Randall got ready for bed that night, he was upset. You would think with his birthday to come, he would be excited. After some questioning by our mother, Randall said, "I don't want all those other kids coming to my birthday. Did you see what they did to Connie's cake?"

Mama laughed, but the next day it was just a family celebration, which also included Lisa, our honorary sibling, who lived next door. Randall's cake actually lasted a couple of days.

Today for Sunday dinner, I decided to make one of our favorites, spaghetti and meatballs. And I was nice and made my brother's favorite cake, orange cake with orange icing.

I told Randall he would have to take any cake that was left home with him.

"And I've got a gallon of milk," he said with just a little sparkle in his eyes. "I'll probably gain a couple of pounds though."

I'm sure he'll be enjoying a nice slice of cake and a tall glass of milk as he watches the Amazing Race tonight.

I used to hate sharing a birthday with my bratty little brother when we were kids. But now I think it's kind of cool. Happy Birthday Little Brother!

Come back tomorrow where I'll be reviewing Z, A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Anne Fowler. And it just so happens that we celebrate the same birthday - April 22nd.

Sunday Dinner: Crockpot Lasagna

I am always searching for something that is delicious and yet easy to make. Yesterday I tried a new recipe out on my hubby to be. This only serves six, which would be way to small for the brood that comes to my house, but this is the kind of recipe you can drop in the crockpot, go to church, come home, add a salad and garlic bread and there you go. Dinner is served.

Crockpot Lasagna

1 pound(s) uncooked 93% lean ground beef   

1 small uncooked onion(s), chopped   

1/2 tsp minced garlic  

28 oz canned crushed tomatoes   

15 oz pasta sauce (whichever flavor you prefer)

1 tsp table salt

1 tsp dried oregano      

1/2 tsp dried basil    

1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes, or to taste   

1 cup(s) part-skim ricotta cheese   

1 1/2 cup(s) shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese, divided   

6 item(s) uncooked lasagna noodles, no-cook   

1/2 cup(s) shredded parmesan cheese

Instructions

Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add beef, onion and garlic; cook, stirring frequently, breaking up meat with a wooden spoon as it cooks, about 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in crushed tomatoes, pasta sauce, salt, oregano, basil and red pepper flakes; simmer 5 minutes to allow flavors to blend.


Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, stir together ricotta cheese and 1 cup of mozzarella cheese. 


Spoon 1/3 of beef mixture into a 5-quart slow cooker. Break 3 lasagna sheets in half and arrange over beef mixture; top with half of ricotta mixture. Repeat with another layer and finish with remaining 1/3 of beef mixture.


Cover slow cooker and cook on low setting for 4 to 6 hours. Remove cover; turn off heat and season to taste, if desired. 


In a small bowl, combine remaining 1/2 cup of mozzarella cheese and Parmesan cheese; sprinkle over beef mixture. Cover and set aside until cheese melts and lasagna firms up, about 10 minutes.

Serves 6.

Don't tell you family, but this is a lighter version of your ordinary lasagna. If you prefer, you can also add zucchini and mushrooms.

Sunday Dinner: Grandma Downs Lemon Cake

Grandma Downs' Lemon Supreme Deluxe Cake

Last week Sunday dinner was cancelled due to illness — mine. My grandson had a cold, which he shared with me. I believe it was the worst cold of my life, it kept me down completely for three days and I'm just now getting back to normal.

I've been wanting something with lemon, but I didn't want to make a pie. My future mother-in-law, Shirley sent me a cookbook with Vincent family recipes over Christmas. What a treasure that book is for  family recipes preserve our past and heritage. There was a recipe for a lemon cake that Chuck absolutely loves and I had to try it.

Yesterday as the cake was baking, Chuck kept saying "That smells good." It smelled so good and I needed a picture for my blog so we just had to have a piece last night. I added some fresh blueberries and all I can say is that it was truly delicious.

Did you catch the future mother-in-law? Yes, there is now a ring on my finger and Chuck and I will marry sometime this year. We're not sure when since we plan to elope.

As for the rest of Sunday dinner, I'm serving pot roast with carrots and potatoes, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn, and brown-n-serve rolls.

When I serve those rolls I can't help but think of Damascus, the little girl in Kimberly Brock's novel, The River Witch. Damascus is putting on a feast for her family and it won't be complete without lots of those little rolls. She is adamant about it. Reluctantly Roslyn hurries off to purchase them. So if you're looking for a wonderful novel that will make you laugh and cry, then The River Witch is what you're looking for.

Sunday Dinner: Amanda's Birthday and Snow in the South

Ashley and Amanda

This weekend we are celebrating my daughter's 24th birthday. On the day she was born, it snowed. While her birthday is still a few days away, we're celebrating today. This is one of my favorite pictures of a snow day back when she was about fourteen. Amanda and Ashley spent the day building an igloo, which we rarely get that much snow or the kind that you can build an igloo from.

Amanda's request for her birthday cake - strawberry cake and strawberry icing adorned with fresh strawberries. One of her favorite meals is meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese. I'm not sure how much of the regular crowd will be here. The roads have cleared off, but there is still danger of black ice, which many Southerners fear.

Yesterday the snow came in fast. It was the white, fluffy kind and even though it was predicted that there would be no accumulation, you had to wonder when everything was covered in 15 minutes and cars were slipping and sliding along the roads. We promptly cancelled our plans to see A Good Day to Die Hard and came home.

We spent the afternoon and evening catching up on shows from our DVR queue and watching movies. Since I promised Chuck an action movie, we watched Battleship - no Bruce Willis, but the Navy was saving our world against an alien invasion - lots of action, odd looking aliens, and many explosions.

The folks up North always laugh at how we shut everything down, but when you only get snow a couple of times a year, well we just don't have the equipment to maintain the roads and things down here. For most of the school age children, sadly they will be not be missing school tomorrow.

Sunday Dinner: Chocolate Chip Pie from Pinterest

My mother received this cookbook as a young bride back in 1965. She marked several favorite recipes. She also added her own on the blank pages. When she ran out of room, she began tucking handwritten recipes within the pages of the book. She even has one written on the back side of a calendar page for you might be a redneck if...

One thing I noticed going through the book is that she didn't always feel the need to title a recipe so you have to look at the ingredients to know what it is for.

On Friday night I went to book club. My friend Olivia was hosting. Everyone was raving about the food and she professed her pinterest addiction and how many of the recipes for the appetizer, dinner, and dessert came from there.

We had read Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo. Our meals usually try to have a theme from the book and since the story is about a four year old boy's trip to heaven, the food was things children would love: spaghetti and dessert. Children are always about the dessert. Olivia made chocolate chip pie and butterfingers pie.

As soon as I tasted the chocolate chip pie, I knew it would be great for Sunday dinner. My niece and nephew are sure to love it. So I popped over to pinterest and located the recipe for chocolate chip pie. The one thing I did realize when making the pie was that mine required more cooking time. I increased the time by 15 minutes.

And of course after finding the pie, I began looking for other possibilities for Sunday dinner offerings. I will be trying some new recipes in the coming weeks.

My Mom passed away in 2005. Searching for something new for Sunday dinner that everyone would like was always a passion of hers. I know she would have really loved pinterest. So for all of you out there searching for something new to prepare for your family, join us on pinterest.

You'll find my boards at: http://pinterest.com/connieathompson/

Sunday Dinner: Super Bowl Party

This is a first for the Sunday dinner crowd - a Super Bowl party. I'm not a big football fan, but my beau is. A couple of weeks ago he started asking everyone in the family if they wanted to come and watch the Super Bowl. Now my Dad and son are pretty big football fans. My sister-in-law and nephew are too, but as for the rest of us - not so much. I was surprised when everyone wanted to come. It just goes to show you that when you think you know your family, you can still be surprised.

We debated several ideas for tonight's menu and ultimately decided on meatball subs.

Meatballs are very easy to make. Ground beef, bread crumbs, an egg, garlic powder, and parsley. Form into ball shapes and bake at 350° until done. For the size meatballs I make, this turned out to be 25 minutes. I then added them to bottled marinara sauce and let it simmer on low in the crockpot.

So while half the family watched the Super Bowl - the other half played Quirkle, a fun board game which you try to match colors and shapes to obtain the most points. I lost by 1 point.

At half time my 10-year-old nephew, Ethan is loving it - the Ravens are his favorite team. I hope he made it home in time to see that 100+ yard touchdown.

Check back tomorrow when I'll be reviewing Julie Kibler's Calling Me Home, February's feature of the month for She Reads, where you'll find some great giveaways this month.

Sunday Dinner: The Art of Baking a Cake

This weekend my brother's family is brining dessert. My sister-in-law sent me a picture of her son, Ethan helping make the cake last night. That grin on his face reminded me of my own first cake baking experience.

On Christmas morning I rushed down the steps, pushing my smaller siblings out of the way. Mama was always saying one day they would be bigger than me, but on that day they weren't. Santa thought it funny to put my presents at the back of the tree so as I plowed through baby dolls, trucks, cars, and balls - there is was - just what I asked for - my very own Easy Bake Oven.

I had to wait until the next day to finally use it. Going to Grandmother's and then Grandma's took most of the day and when we finally got home that night, Mama said it was too late.

The next morning I read all the directions - it is just something I do and did even back then. It seemed simple and it wasn't long until I was mixing and placing my first little cake through the oven door to be baked by a light bulb. It only came with a few cake mixes so it didn't take long to go through them.

Instead of spending money buying more little packages, Mama taught me to bake a real cake. We read the directions. We preheated the oven. Greased and floured the pans. Added eggs, water, and cooking oil to the mix and then I got to use the electric mixer. All of the ingredients whirled together until the contents were smooth. Mama guided me through each step letting me do everything. Once the cake cooled, she showed me how to frost it making delightful little swirls with the knife.

Years later when I had grown up and had my own family, Mama also taught my daughter how to make a cake. Amanda spent quite a bit of time with Mama and me. By the time she was ten, she could cook just about anything. During the summer when my kids were home while I worked, Amanda would make fried chicken and mashed potatoes - for one - she didn't make enough to share with her brother. I can only imagine what went on while I was at work. Of course when I was a kid, there were four of us. It was best Mama never found out what happened while she was at work.

Sunday Dinner: Daniel's First Birthday

All boy - balls, trucks, and super heroes

This Sunday we celebrate my grandson, Daniel's first birthday. Being a grandmother is amazing in a way I never understood before. Grandchildren are wonderful - you have all the fun, but you don't have the day to day responsibility. With my children, I was always so worried about making mistakes. Was I doing everything right? No parent does everything right, but new parents are obsessed with perfection.

Easter

Not liking the party hat

Grandparents know to do the best you can and enjoy. And Daniel is definitely a source of joy in my life. I love how he smiles wrinkling up his little nose and showing his four teeth when he sees me. He likes to play. His favorite game with me is to run as fast as he can when I say I'm going to get you. He giggles so hard sometimes he loses his balance.

I had taken a break from Sunday dinner for a couple of years after my Grandmother died, but when I learned of Daniel's impending arrival, I knew I had to bring Sunday dinner back. Going to my own Grandmother's for dinner are some of my fondest childhood memories. And now that I've experienced what it is like to be a grandmother, I have a new appreciation for my own.

Today before the birthday party, we'll have meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, macaroni and cheese, corn, and brown and serve rolls. All just like my Mom and Grandmother used to make. Sunday dinner was a tradition that my Grandmother began, but it was also important to my Mom. During Grandmother's later years, Mom did most of the cooking.

Preparing for Sunday Dinner

As I walked into the grocery store yesterday, I had a mental picture of my Mom and Grandmother. My Grandmother never learned to drive so it was my Mom's duty to take her grocery shopping every week. And here I was years later doing the exact same thing, except I was alone and missing both of them terribly.

I planned to visit my aunt Doris (Grandmother's daughter and Mom's sister) later that day and I knew that she would really appreciate Grandmother's applesauce cake. Sometimes it is just nice to have a little taste of something your Mama used to make. And she squealed with delight when she saw what I brought her. I'm not sure if she was more excited about the cake or that I had brought Daniel with me.

For me it isn't Christmas without  Grandmother's applesauce cake so I'll make one for my family to enjoy Christmas Day.

When I was a kid, we always had to go to Community Cash on Saturday mornings. Grandmother and Mom had their preferred stores and rarely deviated from them. Groceries always came from Community Cash.

In the 70s, there were bagboys for every register. They would load your groceries up and carry them to your car. Most of the young men were extremely courteous and talkative, but that may have been my Mom, she talked to everyone. It used to embarrass me terribly, but of course I find myself doing the same thing.

This Sunday I am taking it easy before all of the Christmas crazy. We're having baked ziti, a salad, and my sister-in-law is bringing dessert.

This is the only Sunday this month we won't be celebrating a birthday. Next week will be my little brother Dennis and the following week his wife, Danielle.

Sunday Dinner: Happy Birthday Ryan

My due date was November 26, 1986. Every week in November I would make the trip to the doctor's office for my checkup and the nurse would say, "This is probably the last time we'll see you before you deliver." She said this to me four times before it was true. My son was in no hurry. He arrived on December 12th - my little brother, Murph's birthday. Murph was only two years old and at times they were more like brothers than uncle and nephew. They went to high school together and Murph loved being called Uncle Murph in front of his classmates.

Birthdays were always huge to my Mama. She loved to make birthday cakes and of course there was always the requisite birthday picture with the cake. But this year, Ryan requested something different and of course as his Mama, I'm happy to do it for him. He wants peanut butter pie. Of course he always wants cubed steak, rice, gravy, and biscuits - and he'll have all of that because that's what Mamas do.

No Bake Peanut Butter Pie
• 1 (8 oz) package cream cheese
• 1 1/2 cups confectioner's sugar
• 1 cup Jif peanut butter (only choosy moms choose Jif)
• 1 cup milk
• 1 (16 oz) whipped topping
• 2 (9 in) chocolate prepared pie shells

Directions:
Beat together cream cheese and confectioner's sugar.
Mix in peanut butter and milk. Beat until smooth.
Fold in whipped topping.
Spoon in pie shells. Cover. Freeze until firm.

* I also like to drizzle chocolate syrup over the pie before serving.

Happy Birthday Ryan and Murph.

Murph, I'm sorry you're too far away to come and enjoy, but I'm sure Ellen will be doing something special for you.

Sunday Dinner: Happy Birthday Casey

December is a big birthday month for my family. My daughter-in-law, Casey is on the 3rd. My son, Ryan and my brother, Murph share the 12th. My brother Dennis's is the day after Christmas on the 26th. His wife and my sister-in-law is New Year's Eve on the 31st. And of course we have Christmas in there too. I also have some great friends with December birthdays too. It is a busy month.

Casey loves chocolate. She is perfectly happy with just a simple boxed cake from the grocery store, but I wanted to do something special for her. When this post popped up on my Facebook page, I knew it was the one for her - a good ol' Southern Chocolate Coca Cola Cake.

If  you want the recipe I used pop on over to Sweet Tea and Cornbread's blog where you will find it. I have also posted it on my Pinterest board titled Sunday Dinner.

Birthdays were always a big deal to my Mama. She had a birthday banner she would put up on Sunday and she would make their favorite cake. She always insisted that we take a picture of everyone surrounding the cake and the person celebrating their birthday.

Sunday Dinner: After Thanksgiving

Elizabeth and her Daddy (Dennis)

Thanksgiving has always been about being thankful for family. I am one of the lucky ones because I do have a wonderful family. Although my parents divorced when I was ten, I always knew that they loved us. My Mom would always tell us to act like we loved one another, which meant we needed to quit fighting and bickering. I have three wonderful brothers and I am thankful for each of them. And now our family has grown with relationships, marriages, and children. It is so strange to see characteristics of my parents, brothers, and sister in the next generation.

Ethan with his Mom (Danielle)

Thanksgiving day was beautiful and warm enough that nobody needed big jackets. We spent quite a bit of time outside, the trees still clinging to a few colorful leaves before winter arrives.

Ryan, Casey, James, Daniel, Amanda, Murph, Ellen

The family is so large that there is no way we could all fit at one table. We have two kids tables, one for the older kids and the younger kids.

Ellen, Murph, Randall

It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without a little target practice afterwards. We're not really that redneck, but   it is fun to fill aluminum cans with water and watch them explode when a pellet hits them.

Typically Sunday dinner features leftovers from Thanksgiving, but since we went to my Dad's house, there weren't enough leftovers to serve today. I thought everybody might enjoy a nice change, so today is a Mexican fiesta. I'll serve seasoned ground beef and chicken, tortilla chips, tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, and cilantro where the family can make their own version of nachos or taco salad. And dessert will be a store bought cake that had four different kinds: raspberry, orange, chocolate, and apple.

Sunday Dinner: Boo Pudding

Boo Pudding

My Mom loved all holidays, but she really enjoyed Halloween. Every October she would pull the cardboard witch out of the closet. This witch had a scary face, must like the wicked witch in Oz. Her limbs moved with the opening and closing of the door.

Mom noticed that one of the little boys who was always knocking on the door wanting us to come out to play had not been asking for a couple of weeks. She asked his mother if everything was all right. The  mother laughed telling her that Scott was afraid of the witch on the door. After Halloween when the witch disappeared back into the closet, Scott reappeared asking us to play.

Mom was often in charge of desserts at Grandmother's on Halloween. She had seen the recipe in a magazine and as my mother often did, she changed it up making it her own. Boo Pudding became a favorite holiday recipe.

1 Large Package of Jello Instant Pudding (Make as directed on box except do not place in refrigerator to set).
1 Regular tub of Cool Whip
Oreo Cookies
Chocolate Graham Crackers
Candy Corn
Candy Pumpkins

I found candy Peep Pumpkins, which would have tickled my Mom. She really loved the Peep Chicks that come out at Easter.

To make:

Crush Oreos and divide. Line the bottom of the dish with half the Oreos.

Make Jello Instant Pudding as directed on box except do not place in refrigerator to set. Add Cool Whip and mix together and place over crushed Oreos.

Top with the remaining Oreos.

Line the dish with candy corn. Place graham crackers to look like tombstones. Add pumpkins.

You can use the spray whipped cream to make ghosts by your tombstones.

Sunday Dinner: Childhood Favorite

I am away at a writer's conference this weekend so I will not be cooking. After all the family moans and groans, my son graciously agreed to step up and cook dinner for everyone.

Ryan's culinary skills are limited so he is making a childhood favorite of his.

So to all my Sunday dinner regulars, Ryan will be serving SpaghettiOs. Please call him in advance and let him know if you're coming - he needs to know how many cans to buy.

And to my Dad, Ryan said he would add cut up hot dogs to yours if you come.

Next week Sunday dinner will return and I'll be featuring my Mom's Boo Pudding that she always made for Halloween.

See y'all next week!

Sunday Dinner: Cubed Steak

It has long been a family tradition to offer up the favorites that Sunday for the person celebrating a birthday. My beau, Chuck's birthday is this Wednesday. I knew chocolate cake was a given. He also requested cubed steak (here in the South) or chicken fried steak to the rest of the country. It is a long standing family favorite, especially for my son Ryan.

For the breading you need flour, poultry seasoning, salt, and pepper. There is no exact amount. I just sprinkle the spices into the flour. Dredge the cube steak in the mixture, coating both sides. Cook in a skillet with the bottom covered in oil. I like to cover mine, it makes it more tender. I usually turn it a couple of times, checking to be sure that it is cooked evenly.

We also had rice, gravy, green beans, macaroni and cheese, corn, and biscuits.

My grandson, Daniel fell asleep during dinner. He was clutching a green bean and a piece of macaroni. When he awoke, he smiled and then continued eating. Aren't kids wonderful?

And yes we often use paper plates. When you have more than a dozen people for dinner, paper is more practical.

Sunday Dinner: Orange Supreme Cake

Is there a taste that just calls to you from childhood?

Randall's Favorite Orange Cake

For my brother that would be an orange cake with orange icing. At least a couple of times a year our Grandmother would make an orange cake with orange icing. It wasn't anything exceptional, just a box cake and commercial frosting, but it was my brother, Randall's favorite.

Sometime in the 80s, they discontinued the icing. You can still find the orange cake, now labeled as Duncan Hines Orange Supreme, but you could not find the icing. My brother Dennis worked for a grocery store for many years and even tried to see if maybe it was offered in other parts of the U.S., but nobody could find it.

Until this weekend in Publix, I spotted it, Orange Crème Frosting. It does not come in the traditional tub, you buy that separately. The Orange Crème is a powder that you add and stir. I just about did a happy dance in the store. We've been looking for this frosting for thirty years.

Last year I found an orange frosting, but it was just colored for Halloween, it was not the true orange taste and color.

I almost called my brother yesterday to tell him, but I thought I would let the surprise speak for itself.

"Is that an orange cake, the real orange cake?" he said.

"Yes, it is." I tried to make my own orange icing last year for his birthday. He appreciated the effort, but we both knew it just wasn't the same thing then.

He sat at the table, the cake was in front of him. He held on to that plastic cake keeper like someone was going to make a mad dash out the door with it.

For dessert, I cut small pieces for everyone so that he would have some cake to take home with him. And I'm sure tonight he'll have a tall class of milk and a large piece of orange cake.

I plan on going back to Publix and buying several to keep in reserve just in case they decide to discontinue them again.

Last week, people were amazed at how many we had for dinner. This week I had 13 people for Sunday dinner.