When a recipe is more….

By Geekmom

When does a recipe become more than a list of ingredients?  I think I found this out over the weekend.  It has a back story so please be patient.

When I was nine years old, the property next to my parents’ farm was sold to a couple with two boys.  Gloriosity and Sockman turned out to be amazing neighbors.  As Gloriosity had no daughters, she borrowed me from time to time.  I remember a wondrous day where I learned how to make her mouth-wateringly delicious Easter Bread.  As well, when I turned about twelve, my mother started working.  She left me detailed instructions on what to cook for supper on the counter each day so supper would be done at 5:30.  I would watch for Gloriosity to come up the drive at 3:30 when the instructions confused me.  I knew just how long it took her to pull in the garage and walk into the house after I saw her car disappear behind the house.  To be honest, it happened a great deal and she never seemed to mind.  She was a beautiful person with whom I got to grow up.  I am a better person for it.  Sadly, cancer stole Gloriosity from us a few years back.  There are many recipes in my box that came from her kitchen before her death.  Many recipes except one – the one I loved the best.


I am not sure if this cookie is as good as my memory says it is, but I think it is.  It is a ribbon cookie with  raspberry and apricot layers between delicious thin layers of cake.  There was an icing on top and she placed a perfect flower and leaf on the center of every cookie.  Every time we had a special occasion in my family, she would volunteer to make some cookie and if I got to speak up first, that was the cookie she made every time.  She never told me no.  She always smiled and brought them.  Gloriosity was ill for many years before her death and it has been a long time since I have had that cookie.  I have thought about it though.


The house next door was sold this summer.  Life being what it is includes change.  Sockman brought her recipe boxes over for my mom to look through.  I went over to copy what ones I could find.  I looked at every piece of paper in the box.  Some recipes had no names.  It was an adventure.  But more so, it was a testament to friendship.  I passed over many recipes because I already had them.  They were from my family.  Some were even in my handwriting.  It made me remember that I often would copy down the recipe as she and my mother talked at the kitchen table.  Funny how time erased that memory until I saw the card.


I found that recipe at the back of the second file.  I copied it word for word.  I brought this little extra piece of Gloriosity home with me.  More importantly, I remembered just how wonderful she was.  You know that cookie I always made her make – it is a bear to make.  You have to bake the three cake layers separately.  Fill it with four fillings.  Assemble all but the icing and chill it overnight.  Ice it – which included those beautiful buttercream flowers and then freeze it before anyone gets a single bite.  She was a wonderful neighbor.



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