Elizabeth Wilder's Blog

Oh My!! - Shoo Fly Pie

In a previous message I said we needed to get on in being PA residents so bring on the Shoo Fly Pie.  Well, one of our neighbors knocked on the door the other day .  She had been out to an Amish bakery and bought one and wanted to share it with us.  She has never seen my blog as she gave up trying to conquer the beast several years ago and gave her computer away.  Her grandchildren wanted her to have one.  Guess they'll have to deal with hand written notes which I think sometimes are the best anyway (just not for me).  

My word, have you ever tried shoo fly pie?  It is pretty much 100% sugar what with the molasses bottom layer covered by a sugary topping.  I felt my hyperglycemic numbers going up just carrying it into the kitchen. 

I can see how the Amish can eat this with pleasure due to their daily hard labor.  Driving between the fields one day on my way to the Amish co-op where I buy my bread flour and spices and produce in season, I watched a woman driving a 4 mule team over her land.  She was standing up on the wagon seat, her long dress flying behind her, bonnet slipping backward and the determined look on her face showed she was going to finish this chore before sun down come hell or high water.  The farms are meticulous and Mondays seem to be wash days for lines stretching across porches to poles to trees are full of clothes dancing to the whim of the wind.  During warm weather, many of the open porches have wonderful quilts on display for sale that have been hand stitched during down time.   This only adds to the colorful beauty of flowers in the yards that punctuate the acres of green produce. Never mind just tending the crops, time must be spent grooming the wonderful retired race horses that provide transportation pulling the buggies that need constant upkeep.  This is only a fraction of chores for the family and they are done religiously and without electricity.  (Now being without a phone would not bother me as I don't particularly like talking on them BUT not having my laptop would put me over the top!)

So, unless I learn to drive a team of oxen or mules and talk the man next door to let me work his fields now that the geese have gone, I'll need to keep my shoo fly pie eating to a bare minimum.  But watch me once the new crops come in - then I shall truly be fully immersed in the local cuisine.

A quip:  Our days are identical suitcases - all the same size - but some people can pack more into them.  (anonymous) 

   

As the Goose Flys

This afternoon I spotted something not spotted in Maine this time of year.  In the corner of one of the gardens in the court yard area, there were several daffodil plants poking their heads out of the ground.  The were up about 3 inches and I  could not help but thinking that our sons had Spring bulbs too, but they were still about 36 inches below the snow.

I also realized that the many Canadian geese that wintered in the PA fields next to us had finished their honking discussions and had made up their minds that it was time to head north.  Many had left during the night but some were still queuing to take off into the familiar V formation.  Then with a final swooping "see ya next year" salute to their field, the point of their arrow began to move towards familiar resting and feeding fields on the way back to the summer nesting places where the next generation will be born.  I have always wondered how the the number one position leader was determined.  Did they have tryouts?  Flip a coin?  Find the goose who had a map?  As usual, when my curiosity is peaked, I do the only logical thing - I Googled!

My research found that the leader is usually one of the larger, stronger birds.  It is believed that leaders take turns guiding the group so that the "point man" (hmm - equal opportunity "point lady") could get some rest.  You see the "V" formation helps reduce wind resistance allowing for energy conservation for the flock.  Families travel together following the ingrained migratory routes that the parents teach the young on their way south in the Fall.  They have certain pre-determined resting areas along the flight where they feed and drink.  Can't you just hear the younger ones honking - are we there yet?  Just think that the geese you see this Spring could have left our place in PA this morning.  Amazing.

Too bad we humans don't have these innate honing in capabilities.  It would sure save a lot of aggravation and "U" turns. [Remember - we are still learning the lay of the land around our new home!] 

Changes

It is mid February and I have been sitting on my little PA patio enjoying the sun.  It is 66 degrees!  I know that to some of you, that does not sound warm but to me it is glorious.  I talked with my girlfriend  in Southern Maine last night and snow on the flat in her backyard is over her picnic table.  So you see it is a matter of perspective.  I also know that this is only a tease as the temps are dropping again for the next few days but I will take whatever I can get.

When we moved here, we knew that there would be many changes to adjust to other than regional dialect.  As a matter of fact we brought a few food items that we knew would not be here like Friends Baked Kidney Beans and a certain salad dressing, etc.  But I never thought one my biggest challenges would be the humble hot dog roll.   Now for 70 years living in Massachusetts and Maine, my hot dog rolls were nothing like the Frankfurt Buns we find here.  Here they look like small soft "sub rolls" that are slit up the side.  My first several attempts of using them left me with two halves with all the filling falling out.  A New England hot dog roll stands up on a flat bottom with wonderful straight sides that we usually smear with a bit of margarine or butter and grill in a frying pan to a golden brown.  It is cut on the top so you have a sturdy area for your dog.       Everyone has their favorite way to dress the hot dog but I always put sweet pickle relish on the bottom, then the boiled or grilled dog is topped with yellow mustard and occasionally a bit of chopped onion. Yum!  The only other way  to use the New England type roll is steamed like they do at Fenway or any ball park or from a vendor that sells steamed dogs on the street corner ,especially at the beach.

One shopping trip I got excited when I saw a package of "New England cut rolls".  I didn't care if I had to pay a premium.  Well the package of buns was quite a bit pricier but also they turned out to be the same old baby sub rolls only cut on top.  I tried grilling one these rolls but because they have a slightly rounded shape ended up with a bun with a brown strip along the side - not the look I was hoping for and when I tried to dress the hot dog it fell through the other side and I ended up with a dog and two halves of a roll - not cool.

The toasted stand alone roll is also used for lobster rolls ( REAL ones) - not the type where the lobster is mixed with celery and fancy mayo and served on lettuce in the roll or heaven forbid, in a croissant. The best lobster roll is grilled with butter and stuffed with plain lobster meat with a very light mixture of mayo cut with cream  or just dribbled with melted butter.  And what about a fried whole clam roll?  (Not clam strips which are cut from larger clam's necks and resemble fried rubber bands.) The best   rolls are piled high and over flowing  with golden fried whole clams.  I like them plain with just a bit of salt, some like catsup but most like them dressed with tartar sauce.  I don't see the "sub bun" having room to hold a substantial feeding of clams laying on its side.

Well, I solved my hot dog roll dilemma.  My husband was in Maine on business last weekend and brought home 4 dozen.  They are safely in my freezer and should hold us until our next trip to New England.

I must remember that as Dorothy said - Toto - we are not in Maine anymore!!  We are in a period of adjustment and will certainly eat our way up the seacoast of Maine sometime this Summer.  I must remember that my girlfriend and my sons are dealing with feet of snow while I'm sitting in the sun on my little patio listening to the Canadian geese in the field nearby discussing loudly if it is time to head North. 

I may pass on the scrapple but bring on the Shoo-Fly-Pie!

Humpty Dumpty

It seems lately that I have been spending most of my time putting out fires (that is what my daughter calls it).  I never realized just how many pieces have to be put together in a relocation and the puzzle has used up more of my time than I would like.  Changing addresses in this world of the internet is not that easy - what is your pin -your mother's middle name (or favorite pet).  I usually can tell them my mother's middle name but I have to stop and think just when I opened the account and which pet was my favorite at the time. I have learned to open my cell phone, take out the battery and replace my SIM card (after finding an ATT store), and using the zillion numbers in the tiniest font get some person somewhere to ask - what is your password?  You know - the 4 digit number we gave you when first got your prepaid phone. Ah, I was so intimidated at the time that the teenage salesclerk registered the phone for me - perhaps you should ask him.  Of course that was 5 years ago.  After a multitude of questions to prove my identity I began to wonder if I was really me.  But I did get it working (you've come a long way baby) and have the new password hidden in many places - perhaps I should have it tattooed somewhere on my body. That would be safe as at my age most of my body is hidden.  Then, how could the power company mess up a first payment on a new account - of course  - it is my account.  Have you ever tried to read all the numbers stamped on the back of a cancelled check when you bring it up on a laptop?  Good luck! I hope that fire is totally out - it would not be cool if service was cut off.  Never mind, it is February - it would be very cool.  This morning as I was going to start on the next fire on the list, I heard a news report on my ever running news network.  This story was enough to toss some water on my plans.  It was about a 90 year old man who was caught up in the Madoff ponzi mess and had lost his life's savings - $738,000.  He was so sure of the conservative plans for his money, that he entrusted all to Bernie's basket.  He now has nothing in his account and has gone back to work as a greeter at a market.  He needs to earn $12,000 to have the ends meet by the end of the year.  Good grief, I learned very young that you never put all your eggs in one basket.  We had 8 laying hens and it was my duty to keep them cleaned out and collect the eggs.  You do not run over uneven ground with eggs - think of the demise of Humpty Dumpty.  If you do carry them together, you must walk carefully keeping watch over you surroundings - you never know when the dog may dig a new hole for his bone.  (My, how I hated those chickens especially on a winter morning before school when I had to take hot water to the coop to get the ice out of the tray to give them a fresh drink. I do not remember any gratitude.) But many did put all or most of their nest egg in the devious care of Bernie who pushed them all off the wall and now he is crying over being incarcerated in his multi-million dollar penthouse with an ankle bracelet.  Does that seem logical to you?  I personally think that Mr. Madoff should be shackled to the doorway of a very busy discount store to spend hour after hour greeting the public and handing out smiley stickers to every child that comes in.  It would be great if those stickers were at least printed with "I'm Sorry".

I would like to bring your attention to the right hand side of my blog space. Our daughter's Alexemi Publishing now has 3 books in print. How about that!  - Just a Mom shouting out.