Recently, I have become a much more committed user of Instagram. I realized what, in all eventuality, others before me have discovered more instantaneously…that Instagram networks you together with like-minded people all over the world. By the simple use of a hashtag, you can become connected to others who eat like you, cook like you, shop like you, decorate like you, plant like you and the plethora of other similarities that exist in any domain of the world. It is one of those positive & most amazing feats of modern technology.
A part of this cyber population are even interested in some of my recipes. This one in particular:
Morning Glory Muffins
Notes
It struck me this morning while I was mind-blogging…as I so often do…just how very long I have been using this recipe & the origin thereof. At the same time, I thought about all the women that have influenced my passion for cooking & baking over the years. I wish I could say that it all came solely from my mother as she should deserve all of the credit for trying. She was an amazing & capable cook, as were all of my aunts. At least two of my mother’s sisters cooked for work camps & fed hungry labourers meals that were probably fit for big-budget restaurants. I can just taste my Aunt Pat’s jumbo raisin cookies, melting in my mouth, as I ride away on this mind train today. Or see my Aunt Ethel effortlessly baking away, in her tiny kitchen, turning out several items to take to market. However, when my Mom was trying, ever so hard, to interest me in cooking/baking, especially bread…oh, the beautiful bread she baked over & over & over again…bread that I showed no interest in learning how to craft…oh the frailty & ignorance of youth – I didn’t have the time of day. But, then, when I became a young married girl (I really was still a girl, married at 20) I did become interested in culinary endeavours. Now, I was living in Regina, far removed from my Mom living in rural, northern Saskatchewan. I could phone her for cooking advice & recipes, but now, had missed my window for being shown the fine details…of how a “pinch of this” & a “dab of that” really looks.
Anyway, God works in mysterious ways, & a neighbour of mine (about my Mom’s age,) in our first little home in Regina, took me in, under her wing, & began really teaching me how to cook & bake. (Her name was Flo Niedermayer. Yes, the same Niedermayer as the fabulous hockey players. She was their grandmother.) This alone was an amazing gift because she was a professional cook & cookbook author. She showed me how to make countless dishes: cabbage rolls, perogies, meat pies, chicken cordon blue, baking turkey, gravies, salads, muffins, cookies..etc, etc, etc! All of this is an endeavour, but the real gift she left me with is passion. Her passion for food & cooking was so infectious that it could not help but rub off on me. And now, if only I could pay that same passion forward. It is a great compliment & heartswell to me when I see my own children, now young adults, posting pictures of a dish they have made & are proud of. Being able to cook, & cook well, is wonderful – but – having a real passion for that pleasure is a profound & simple joy. To be able to take a day to day task & turn it into what Italians call la dolce vita (loosely translated is “the sweet joy of everyday life”) is the real gift!! The gift that I received, all those years ago, from Flo Niedermayer… Only now, sooo many years later, would I be cognitive enough to thank her. And, as so often is the case – it’s too late…therefore, I pass along this recipe & my love for her with these few words today.
This picture is the original recipe that I have adapted mine from, photocopied for me by Flo because I couldn’t even afford to buy the book for myself…
Written in memoriam of Flo Niedermayer…