August 1st
Dearest cousin Charlotte,
I hope this letter finds you and yours well. It seems but a day or two since you were here with us. It was such a lovely visit. You shall have to come and stay more often. The children talk constantly of our lovely adventures. The weather was warm while you were here, and we have as yet seen no rest from the temperatures. It is exceptionally warm. I believe everything has been at a standstill. It is just too hot to move.
We will be coming to Harrodsburg week after next. Mr. Burns is bringing some hogs to market. I hope to stop and visit with you for a few days before returning home. I need to look for a dress length or two at the dry goods. The girls are outgrowing their hems quicker than I can let the tucks out.
Your last visit you commented kindly on my doughnuts. I have only ever used the one recipe. Copied it from a a ladies journal long passed on to other hands. I thought your Mr. Tucker might enjoy these for his breakfast some cold morning.
Until I see you next.
Yours in kind remembrance,
Emily
Doughnuts
One pound of butter.
One pound and three quarters of sugar, worked with the butter.
Three pints of milk.
Four eggs.
One pint of yeast, if home-made, or half a pint of distillery yeast.
Mace and cinnamon to the taste.
Flour enough to make the dough stiff as biscuit.
Rub the butter and sugar together, add the other ingredients, and set the dough in a warm place to rise. When thoroughly light, roll into sheets, cut with a sharp knife into diamond-shaped pieces, and boil them in fresh lard. Use a good deal of lard, and have it sufficiently hot, or the cake will absorb the fat.
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1 comment:
Bear Sign. That is what a lot people called donuts back in those days. A sure way get some unexpected callers was to let word slip out that some woman up or down the river was making Bear Sign. Some hungry, half-starved, couldn't-cook-a-lick old scroungers would ride or walk miles for a few donuts. Think about that next time you feel too lazy to drive 5 minutes down to the local Krispy Kreme outlet.
I don't recall ever having donuts Up Home. But there would be the occasional cake or pie, usually served with peaches or pears that had been canned that summer to put over the top if you liked.
When my grandmother died and her oldest of two bachelor sons took over the kitchen, the fare abruptly changed. Pones of cornbread and skillets of cathead biscuits were the best you could hope for in the baking department. Unless, of course, somebody brought a cake or pie by on a visit.
On those rare occations, you had better be there upon its arrival or the only thing you were going to get was the tale about how good it had been. Seems I mostly heard the tale. :(
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