Passing on the family jewels

Onion Rye Buns

When the fat is rendered to a fine, clear ghee

and the pan is coated with it, tenderly;

when the yeast has done it’s magic to the flour,

and the dough has risen to its finest hour;

when onion bits jump like crickets in heat

while you stretch and pull the doughy meat

into the round mounds of satisfaction

and place on that pan’s ready attraction;

When the towel is placed oh, so carefully

over buns now sitting, successfully

under stove lights that will do the rest

to make this savory dish the best,

and urge from the lips of the repast takers

requests of “More, please!” from the best bun-bakers.            

~ Annette Gagliardi

My mother’s German rye bread recipe has been handed down to all who wanted it. And each of us has made changes they deemed necessary, through the years. Some changed the amount of the ingredients: what form the onion takes (fresh, dried etc.), if there is rye flour or not, and how much yeast to put in.

Children and grandchildren will say their mom’s is the best. I ALWAYS  make onion bread at Christmas time and foist it upon family, friends and neighbors.  I attempted to make bread in Venezuela when my daughter was studying in Merida. I found out that all the ingredients I use in the recipe may not be available or in the same form, in other countries. That was something I had not ever considered before.

The point was brought home when we visited Italy. The mozzarella cheese was fresh and fabulous, the yogurt divine, the olives so wonderful. Those foods were made locally and handed to us immediately—that made the difference. Think about how good a salad is when you’ve just picked the lettuces, spinach and tomato.

I received my mother-in-law’s spaghetti recipe just before my husband and I got married. Every Italian family’s spaghetti sauce is a little different from the rest and loved by their own family.  I’ve made the necessary changes (added a shredded carrot, a touch of wine, etc.) to make it my own, but the meatballs–which Grandpa Dave taught me how to make, have stayed pretty much the same over the years. My girls, at various times, have asked me to make them. When we traveled to Japan to see our daughter, she asked me to make spaghetti and meatballs for her friends there. We had to find and purchase bigger pots for our meal before we could consider making it. The meat was very expensive and we couldn’t get veal.

I made my ‘famous’ strawberry jam this morning—the one that got the Minnesota State Fair first place ribbon in 2000. My grandson helped (with only minor mishaps.) He says he’s going to keep the long-handled spoon I always use for jelly/jam making. And then, he will hand it down to his kids. I love that he is thinking ahead.

Every family has favorite meals, favorite treats, special spoons or dishes, perhaps special furniture. I wanted, wanted, wanted the curio that my own mother inherited from her mother. My generous sister gave it to me after Mom passed away. It is special because it’s a place I can hold and display my various teapots and special tea cups. I love it. It reminds me of Mom and of Grandma. My great aunt had the whole set: the curio, along with the dining room table, chairs and a sideboard, in her dining room for years. They were supposed to go to Mom, but did not until my great aunt died. Thus, they were handed down, but each recipient has waited for the honor of owning.

Heirlooms related to food and meals can carry powerful memories with them. If you like to cook, there’s nothing quite so touching than owning a mother or grandmother’s handwritten recipe and knowing that the chocolate smudge you see in the corner was made by her very hand. If you’ve ever loved a cook, her recipes, or better, her cookbook, are priceless. I’ve kept the paper my Mother-in-law gave me with the cake recipe; I flubbed the first few times I made it. It’s a date cake—heavy and sweet, with a crumb topping of chocolate, nuts and sugar. Every year on my husband’s birthday I make it for him. Only recently have I experimented to make it a bit lighter.

When we made out our wills a few years ago, we decided to make a list of all the special/valuable pieces of furniture that the girls might want and ‘bequeath’ these items to them. It was amazing to me to find out that they did not hold certain items in the high esteem that I or their father did. One of the girls retorted, “That brown leather chair—I never liked it.” It’s been my favorite for these many years we have owned it.

The big wooden rocker we bought before I was even pregnant, thinking of all the children we could rock, was purchased the first year of our marriage. It has, indeed, rocked our four children, our seven grandchildren and all the other children who have needed a bit of quiet rocking. Sometimes it has been a refuge for adults to read or just sit and rock. Everyone needs a good rocking at one time or another.

Who will get it after my husband and I have died? One of our girls. Possibly it will travel around to each of them, or rest with a grandchild. Even with all the soggy sentimental feelings associated with our best stuff, there are a few practical considerations.

            Bequeaths: Sometimes setting aside fewer items makes them more special. Plus, your kids will someday thank you for denying them what’s become a too-oft rite of passage: Going through mom’s things. And by “things,” we mean all that junk you’ve stored away for “someday.”

When Mom died, even after she had decluttered, given away many things and reduced her household to a single bedroom apartment, we were surprised that she had kept artwork, school diplomas and Mother’s Day cards from us kids.  We had talked her into using her “Good” dish towels and pillow cases. Yet, she gave to the granddaughters several, like-new pair of pillow cases she had hand embroidered.

Why  is it special?

Why are these items special? What makes them worthy of keeping up and caring for, of passing down, of becoming a family heirloom?  Heirlooms represent family wealth, history and/or memories. We covet them, but often for different reasons.

The most common heirlooms: the good silver, the grand piano or other musical instruments, clocks, furniture, the lake house, jewelry such as Grandma’s engagement ring or Grandpa’s pocket watch, cameos, hairpins, hatpins, brooches, pearl necklaces, earrings or cufflinks, quilts or other handmade items, recipes, photos, letters and diaries, trophies like pistols, bayonets and knives, and finally, family stories that get told and retold at family gatherings.

I have a piece of a coverlet my grandmother wove. It is preserved in a box in a closet, along with a letter from a great aunt who described it and explained the origin.  I have meant to get it framed but haven’t gotten around to it. 

Similarly, but more accessible, each of my children and grandchildren received a quilt made by me, when they were born-or shortly after. Now that they are grown, my girls have used their baby blankets for their own children. Our 3-year-old granddaughter still has her quilt on her bed, along with a couple other blankets folks have made for her. Picking the one that is her favorite changes from day to day. She loves the color, the feel, the texture, the smell of each one.

Now, as my grandchildren graduate from high school, I have decided to give them each a (twin size) quilt to take with them to college.  (two down, five to go!)  I hope it will become an heirloom for them. I hope the quilt will warm them on cool nights, will offer a bit of color and pattern to their days and provide the comfort of knowing someone will always love them, no matter what. I hope they will feel it is a special gift, because I spent a lot of thought on what they might like, the colors and patterns to use and the time to sew. I thought of and prayed for each child as I worked on their special quilt.

One of my most endearing heirlooms is a winter scarf that was once owned and worn by my friend and co-hort. At her funeral, her family displayed her scarf collection and invited all the guests to take one in memory of her. I think of her every time I wear that scarf and it comforts me to know her memory is still alive.

The best bequeath we can give is the time spent sharing the acquisition stories, the reasons why things are special, the recipes we make together. This time spent showing them the ‘how’ of a recipe along with the specific ingredients is the most important legacy. My two oldest granddaughters helped me make Christmas Jam last year and they learned the special, secret ingredient I put in to make it Christmas. They are the ones who have seen the actual recipe and know the secret. But they  won’t tell just anyone. It has to be passed down, from generation to generation.

Resources:

Minnesota Historical Society. “Preserve Your Family Treasures.” MNHS.org. July 15, 2010.http://www.mnhs.org/people/mngg/stories/index.htm

Stum, Marlene. “Who Gets Grandma’s Yellow Pie Plate?” University Extension Services, 1999.http://www.amazon.com/Who-Gets-Grandmas-Yellow-Plate/dp/1888440082