Read Mennonite Girls Can Cook Online
Authors: Lovella Schellenberg,Anneliese Friesen,Judy Wiebe,Betty Reimer,Bev Klassen,Charlotte Penner,Ellen Bayles,Julie Klassen,Kathy McLellan,Marg Bartel
............................................... Serves 24
Tip:
The amount of apples is flexible. If you would like your bar with more filling, use more apples and adjust the sugar accordingly.
In the spring I make a rhubarb variation. Use the same recipe, but replace the apples, sugar, and cornflakes with 6 cups / 1.5 L diced rhubarb, 1½ cups / 350 ml white sugar, and
cup / 75 ml minute tapioca.
—
Lovella
............................................ Yields 24-32
—
Anneliese
Our extended family is blessed to have someone who regularly supplies us with these tasty little “pies-in-a-pocket.” I consider it another one of those “labor of love” recipes. I have pretended that I cannot make them, but I’m beginning to think that one day I may change my mind, because they will remind me of one of the most beautiful women in my life, my mom.
Anneliese says
........................................... Yields 6 dozen
Substitute 1 cup / 250 ml chopped apples or chopped dried apricots for 1 cup / 250 ml of the raisins. If you roll them in the berry sugar they freeze well.
—
Judy
Whether you call them Portzelky or fritters, they are a New Year’s tradition for us. It is thought that Dutch Mennonites brought the tradition with them to Prussia in the 1600s and then on to South Russia in the 1800s. To this day we enjoy these tasty little deepfried tidbits to ring in each New Year. Our Dutch neighbors have the same tradition but call their fritters Olliebollen.
Judy says
S
ome of my earliest memories are of being outside on the farm, alongside my mom, who was going about her daily work. Though she had many chores, I ran barefoot, climbed trees, and made dandelion necklaces. Childhood on a farm is bliss! That all changed as I entered my teens. The bare feet gave way to gum boots. I was expected to do my share of the farm work, along with my four sisters. Driving tractor, milking cows, hauling hay bales or picking corn for market—whatever was happening on the farm, we were part of it. I was not always a willing participant, and looked forward to adulthood and an escape from the seemingly endless duties on the farm.
Before the end of my teen years I married the love of my life. We settled into our new life, still in the country but away from the dairy farm forever, or so I thought! As a sideline, we planted raspberries for the commercial market on our little acreage. Within a few years, we had sixty acres of raspberries. When the raspberry harvest was over at the end of July, we had sweet corn to pick and sell. To ensure that we would have something to do during those winter months we raised hogs on our farm and enough beef for our own needs. I learned 101 ways to prepare corn, raspberries, and pork. We always had a freezer full of farm-fresh produce, including homemade farmer sausage. It was an old-fashioned and good way of eating—from the farm to the table!
When our children entered their teens my parents retired from dairy farming and we were given the opportunity to take over the family dairy farm. At one time I would have run in the opposite direction. Instead, we moved back to my childhood farm, and my children moved into the house I knew so well. They climbed the trees I once climbed, slept in my old bedroom, and even milked the cows in the same dairy where I once milked, a skill I had long since forgotten!
Several decades later, our children are grown and we have grandchildren. Now one of our sons and his family live in the old farmhouse and his children climb the trees and search the furthest corners of the hayloft. They are learning from an early age how food arrives on the table and that there are no days off on a dairy farm. The family farm is almost a thing of the past and I am thankful that our family has been part of that experience.
Though at one time I wished for a life as far away from the farm as possible, one day I realized I was living the life I never wanted—and enjoying it!
As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts
.—Isaiah 55:9 (
NIV
)
Faith, family, friends, food and farming … these things are near and dear to me.