Happy Holidays, everyone.
Wishing you and yours
a Christmas filled with all you hold dear!
Thank you for visiting ~
Margaret
a Christmas filled with all you hold dear!
Thank you for visiting ~
Margaret
Here we are, at the start of the Christmas weekend!
It's time to relax, set aside the plans we didn’t achieve - there’s always next year - and accept this year’s celebration for what it is.
It will be special in its own way, it will have its good and bad moments - just as every Christmas always has had - and for that we can be grateful.
Even with the problems in the supply chain we’ve managed.
Maybe even learned a new recipe or two that have become family favourites.
Honey, molasses and jam are good for adding sweetness.
No need to miss recipes that depended on sugar.
Another way to avoid the sugar bowl is to use a cake mix.
They’ve already added the sugar, saving you the bother.
And who needs sugar when you have dried fruits in your cupboard?
Don't let dried apricots and prunes, raisins and dates go to waste.
Let the kiddies have their own ‘visions of sugarplums’ dancing in their heads.
Some Christmas trivia…
The sugar plums mentioned in Clement Clark Moore’s poem Twas the Night Before Christmas and enjoyed in The Nutcracker were coriander seeds coated with sugar, formed into an oval shape and allowed to harden.
Hints:
About the Raisin-Filled Cookies…
For a thicker filling use less water.
if you prefer, or have a bag in your kitchen, use dates or figs.
About the Honey Bun Cake…
If you have pudding in the mix cake mix use 2 large eggs and add 4 Tablespoons water.
Store leftovers in a cool place or refrigerated. It can be microwaved.
About the Sugarplums…
You can substitute other dried fruits, nuts, and preserves. Use what you have.
Add a teaspoon of cinnamon for sweetness and a pinch of ground cloves for spice. For the adults add a teaspoon of brandy - real or extract.
Stored in an airtight container they last up to a month.
Place waxed paper between the layers so they won’t stick together.
Raisin-Filled Cookies
Makes about 3 dozen
For Filling
Place in a medium sized pot
2 Cups raisins
1/4 to 2/3 Cup sugar
2/3 Cup water
Stirring occasionally, cook over medium heat 10 to 15 minutes, until thick.
Remove from heat and stir in
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
1 Tablespoon butter
Let cool while preparing the dough.
For Dough
Sift into a medium bowl
3 Cups flour
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
Stir together in a measuring cup
1/3 Cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Place in a large mixer bowl
1 Cup sugar
1 Cup butter
Cream together until fluffy.
Add
1 large egg
Mix well.
Making 3 dry and 2 liquid additions, add the flour mixture and the milk mixture.
Roll out the dough to 1/8 inch thickness and cut into rounds with a biscuit cutter or a glass.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Place a teaspoonful of filling on the centre of a round.
Makes about 3 dozen
For Filling
Place in a medium sized pot
2 Cups raisins
1/4 to 2/3 Cup sugar
2/3 Cup water
Stirring occasionally, cook over medium heat 10 to 15 minutes, until thick.
Remove from heat and stir in
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
1 Tablespoon butter
Let cool while preparing the dough.
For Dough
Sift into a medium bowl
3 Cups flour
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
Stir together in a measuring cup
1/3 Cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Place in a large mixer bowl
1 Cup sugar
1 Cup butter
Cream together until fluffy.
Add
1 large egg
Mix well.
Making 3 dry and 2 liquid additions, add the flour mixture and the milk mixture.
Roll out the dough to 1/8 inch thickness and cut into rounds with a biscuit cutter or a glass.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Place a teaspoonful of filling on the centre of a round.
Cover it with another round and press edges together.
Bake for 10 to 15 minutes, or until golden brown.
Remove to rack to cool.
Honey Bun Cake
Grease a 9 x 13 baking pan
For Topping
Place in a medium bowl
1 Cup pecan or walnut pieces
1 Cup sugar (white or brown)
2 teaspoons cinnamon
Stir together.
For Cake
Place in a large mixer bowl
1 box yellow cake mix (not pudding in the mix)
3/4 Cup butter, melted (1 1/2 sticks)
4 large eggs
1 Cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon almond extract
Beat at medium speed until just blended.
Pour the cake batter into the prepared baking pan.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Sprinkle topping over cake batter.
Using a knife gently swirl topping into cake batter.
Bake for 35 to 40 minutes.
Be sure to let it cool before adding the icing.
For Icing
Place in a medium bowl
1 1/2 Cups confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 to 5 Tablespoons milk, depending on how thick you want it for pouring
Mix together and drizzle over cake.
Sugarplums
Place in a food processor or blender
1 Cup pitted dates, chopped
1/2 Cup raisins
1/2 Cup pitted prunes, chopped
1/2 Cup currants or dried cranberries
1 Cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
Grind together for a minute, then pulse the mixture a few times.
Add
2 Tablespoons cherry preserves
Pulse a few more times until the mixture begins to come together.
Keep the fruit a bit coarse. Do not over process it into a paste.
Add
1/2 to 3/4 Cup confectioners' sugar
You want enough to thicken, but leaving the fruit moist enough to form a ball.
Wet your hands to prevent sticking and form mixture into 1 inch balls.
Place balls on a rack to dry for 24 hours.
Before serving roll balls in white sugar. (optional)
~~~
In 2004 I wrote this story and read it on our CKUW radio show '2000 & Counting - Older & Wiser'. For a few years it was an annual tradition for ‘2000 & Counting’ and for ‘Better Than Chocolate’. I got a few e mails asking if I could post the original story.
Here it is… Merry Christmas!
Change follows us from the cradle to the grave. When I was five years old I was hit with a megadose of change - I moved to another town, got a baby sister, got to go to kindergarten and got Santa Claus.
Five years earlier my parents and I had emigrated from Malta to New York and settled in Corona. We didn't have much choice. Five of Pop's brothers and sisters lived in Corona. So, we had to live in Corona, too.
Corona was a little slice of Italy on Long Island. The store clerks were bilingual: English and Italian. The grocery stores in Corona were stocked with Italian necessities. Almost everything in all the other stores had been imported from Italy.
Corona was where we learned how to be Americans.
Nonni's children, Betty and Angelo, had married two of Pop's siblings, Joe and Helen. So, Nonni was a double Grandma in my family. Since all my grandparents were in Malta, Nonni treated me as a grandchild, too.
Every Christmas Eve we gathered at Uncle Joe and Aunt Betty's home. A whole corner of their living room was filled with Nonni's manger scene. It was not just a shed with Mary, Joseph, three kings and one shepherd standing around Baby Jesus. Nonni had a complete village with houses, trees, hills, paths, ponds and animals. There were people walking around just minding their own business. Some of the figures were really old and we couldn't play with them. But each year Nonni added something new: a woman carrying a basket of eggs, a farmer carrying a head of cabbage, a man carrying a bundle of wood. Nonni’s manger scene was better than any store window on 5th Avenue in Manhattan.
Dinner was a feast. Fish was traditional - eel for the parents, bluefish for the children. There was also soup, pasta and vegetables, followed by ricotta pie, anise biscotti, pizzelle and cuccidati cookies, strufoli, creamy roasted chestnuts and torrone candy. My favourite was the huge golden mound of strufoli: tiny doughnut balls covered with honey and multi-coloured sprinkles. After dinner we played games and our parents talked until it was time to walk to the Midnight Mass at St. Leo's. After Mass we returned to Uncle Joe's for some panettone, a holiday bread made with butter, raisins, almonds and citron.
Then Nonni would tell us to look at the manger scene for the surprise. The blessed Bambino, Baby Jesus, had suddenly appeared!
Christmas Eve was a wonderful night. But the big day for us children was January sixth. The night before we had hung our stockings and waited for La Befana to bring us toys.
For those unfamiliar with the story, La Befana was a little old lady who had been sweeping her house when the Wise Men knocked on her door. They were looking for Baby Jesus and asked La Befana for directions. They then invited La Befana to join them. The old woman refused, saying she had work to do.
When it was dark, a great light and angels appeared in the sky. La Befana realized that the Wise Men weren't kidding about somebody special being born that night. Broom in hand, La Befana tried to catch up with the Wise Men. She never found them or Baby Jesus. Every year she searches for Baby Jesus and leaves presents for good little boys and girls.
La Befana took care of me for four years. Then we moved to College Point so we could live closer to Lily Tulip where Pop worked. Then it was time for my sister to be born. While Ma was in the hospital I stayed with Aunt Betty, Uncle Joe and their daughters, MaryAnn and Carol Lynn. It was nice living in Corona again. The next day, Nonni diNoto took me to the local 5 and 10 and gave me a quarter.
"Buy for sister."
I didn't have any idea what a baby sister would want. I liked westerns, so I grabbed a toy gun.
"No. Buy a rattle."
A rattle? That sounded boring, but I bought a pink plastic rattle.
In those days children were not allowed to visit anyone in the hospital. When Aunt Betty visited Ma, she gave the rattle to my new sister. I waited outside the hospital and waved to the window of Ma's room. When Aunt Betty returned she had a gift from my new sister for me: three pieces of chocolate.
Well, wasn't that nice of her. Not as nice as a toy gun, but maybe that was all she could get from where she'd been.
After Rose was born we didn't go to Corona as often. It was easier to walk to the local church instead of driving to St. Leo's. I missed seeing my family.
That September I started kindergarten in St. Fidelis School. Some of the good sisters had wanted to travel and meet exotic heathens in far away places. Well, they almost got their wish. I was the first Maltese child they'd ever seen. College Point had been settled by Irish and German families. It was time for me to learn about America through their eyes.
As Christmas approached, the windows of the German bakeries were filled with the most beautiful cookies I'd ever seen. They were in all kinds of shapes: stars, angels, animals and wreaths. They were decorated with coconut, jam, icing and tiny silver balls. Some of my classmates brought in samples of their mothers' baking. I brought some biscotti. My friends were polite and tasted the dry, double-baked bread. Then we ate the lebkuchen, pfeffernuesse, zimtsterne, and jam filled spitzbuben. The stollen reminded me of panettone. I thought a German Christmas was delicious. I planned to eat German and Italian holiday food every Christmas for the rest of my life.
We helped Sister decorate the Christmas tree with sugar cookies which had been twisted into figure eights. Then Sister told us to gather around her. She was going to read us a story. Sister showed us the picture of Santa Claus and his eight reindeer. My friends were delighted.
I was confused.
I had never heard any of this before. Santa was supposed to slide down a chimney and land in a fireplace. We didn't have a fireplace. We had a huge, oil-burning furnace in the basement. Ma hung our stockings, along with all the other wet laundry, on a clothesline near the furnace. It made awful noises and had fire in it. If Santa landed in it he'd fry like a strufoli. That would end Christmas forever. I didn't think Santa would take such a risk for a total stranger. The lovely cookies felt like lead in my stomach.
Sister talked about Santa checking his list of good little girls and boys. Santa had a list? I knew we were on the Registered Aliens list. Every January the TV reminded Ma to fill out green cards so we wouldn't go to jail or Malta. How could I get on Santa's list? Could Santa get my name from the Aliens list? Did I need to fill out another card?
The afternoon went from bad to worse. Sister told us we could put our letters to Santa in the special mailbox in the classroom. A letter? What language did Santa speak? He'd never heard from me. I wasn't on his list. What could I say?
"Hi, you don't know me, but I'd like some toys." I'd never written a letter to La Befana. She just gave me toys. Would Santa shoot La Befana if she came to College Point? Oh, boy… I was in big trouble.
In kindergarten we learned about God the Father, about how we should pray to Him and tell Him what we needed. I didn't need another Father. I figured if my Pop was always busy working, this guy who took care of everything in the whole wide world would really never have time for me.
I needed a Grandma.
The next time we went to Corona I told Nonni about Santa Claus and that he was in charge of Christmas in College Point. Nonni listened patiently as I explained the rules.
She repeated the main points, "Santa Claus. A letter."
I nodded.
"I fix. I write letter to Befana. She give to Santa. No hard feelings. Christmas come."
I had my doubts. Nonni had never been to College Point. Maybe nobody ever had to change from La Befana to Santa Claus. Maybe Christmas was lost forever, like some of the packages we never got from Malta.
On Christmas Eve we all gathered at Uncle Joe and Aunt Betty's home in Corona. We had the Christmas Eve dinner. Then we went to St. Leo's for the Midnight Mass. Everything was familiar. Latin and Italian. Why couldn't we have stayed there?
When we were leaving the church I saw a pale cloud in the sky. It looked long and thin, with a sort of lump on one end. For a moment I thought it looked like Santa and his sleigh with eight tiny reindeer. I kept looking at that cloud. It followed us from the church to Uncle Joe's house, where we had panettone. When we left, the cloud was still there. I watched from the car. The cloud followed us from Corona to College Point.
I never noticed clouds before. Did clouds always follow people from one town to another? Was it really a cloud? Sister had told us that Santa had millions of helpers, tiny people called elves. Could it have been an elf picking up the letter from La Befana?
Christmas morning, Pop was eating breakfast while Ma was cleaning Rose. Ma sent me to the basement to get some dry diapers that were hanging by the furnace. Being a big sister wasn't much fun. I pulled down two diapers. Then I noticed some lumps by the furnace. I thought some clothes had fallen off the line. I walked toward the furnace.
But the lumps weren't clothes.
They were boxes.
They were wrapped.
They were presents!
They were for me!!
Santa had found me.
Bake for 10 to 15 minutes, or until golden brown.
Remove to rack to cool.
Honey Bun Cake
Grease a 9 x 13 baking pan
For Topping
Place in a medium bowl
1 Cup pecan or walnut pieces
1 Cup sugar (white or brown)
2 teaspoons cinnamon
Stir together.
For Cake
Place in a large mixer bowl
1 box yellow cake mix (not pudding in the mix)
3/4 Cup butter, melted (1 1/2 sticks)
4 large eggs
1 Cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon almond extract
Beat at medium speed until just blended.
Pour the cake batter into the prepared baking pan.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Sprinkle topping over cake batter.
Using a knife gently swirl topping into cake batter.
Bake for 35 to 40 minutes.
Be sure to let it cool before adding the icing.
For Icing
Place in a medium bowl
1 1/2 Cups confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 to 5 Tablespoons milk, depending on how thick you want it for pouring
Mix together and drizzle over cake.
Sugarplums
Place in a food processor or blender
1 Cup pitted dates, chopped
1/2 Cup raisins
1/2 Cup pitted prunes, chopped
1/2 Cup currants or dried cranberries
1 Cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
Grind together for a minute, then pulse the mixture a few times.
Add
2 Tablespoons cherry preserves
Pulse a few more times until the mixture begins to come together.
Keep the fruit a bit coarse. Do not over process it into a paste.
Add
1/2 to 3/4 Cup confectioners' sugar
You want enough to thicken, but leaving the fruit moist enough to form a ball.
Wet your hands to prevent sticking and form mixture into 1 inch balls.
Place balls on a rack to dry for 24 hours.
Before serving roll balls in white sugar. (optional)
~~~
In 2004 I wrote this story and read it on our CKUW radio show '2000 & Counting - Older & Wiser'. For a few years it was an annual tradition for ‘2000 & Counting’ and for ‘Better Than Chocolate’. I got a few e mails asking if I could post the original story.
Here it is… Merry Christmas!
Change follows us from the cradle to the grave. When I was five years old I was hit with a megadose of change - I moved to another town, got a baby sister, got to go to kindergarten and got Santa Claus.
Five years earlier my parents and I had emigrated from Malta to New York and settled in Corona. We didn't have much choice. Five of Pop's brothers and sisters lived in Corona. So, we had to live in Corona, too.
Corona was a little slice of Italy on Long Island. The store clerks were bilingual: English and Italian. The grocery stores in Corona were stocked with Italian necessities. Almost everything in all the other stores had been imported from Italy.
Corona was where we learned how to be Americans.
Nonni's children, Betty and Angelo, had married two of Pop's siblings, Joe and Helen. So, Nonni was a double Grandma in my family. Since all my grandparents were in Malta, Nonni treated me as a grandchild, too.
Every Christmas Eve we gathered at Uncle Joe and Aunt Betty's home. A whole corner of their living room was filled with Nonni's manger scene. It was not just a shed with Mary, Joseph, three kings and one shepherd standing around Baby Jesus. Nonni had a complete village with houses, trees, hills, paths, ponds and animals. There were people walking around just minding their own business. Some of the figures were really old and we couldn't play with them. But each year Nonni added something new: a woman carrying a basket of eggs, a farmer carrying a head of cabbage, a man carrying a bundle of wood. Nonni’s manger scene was better than any store window on 5th Avenue in Manhattan.
Dinner was a feast. Fish was traditional - eel for the parents, bluefish for the children. There was also soup, pasta and vegetables, followed by ricotta pie, anise biscotti, pizzelle and cuccidati cookies, strufoli, creamy roasted chestnuts and torrone candy. My favourite was the huge golden mound of strufoli: tiny doughnut balls covered with honey and multi-coloured sprinkles. After dinner we played games and our parents talked until it was time to walk to the Midnight Mass at St. Leo's. After Mass we returned to Uncle Joe's for some panettone, a holiday bread made with butter, raisins, almonds and citron.
Then Nonni would tell us to look at the manger scene for the surprise. The blessed Bambino, Baby Jesus, had suddenly appeared!
Christmas Eve was a wonderful night. But the big day for us children was January sixth. The night before we had hung our stockings and waited for La Befana to bring us toys.
For those unfamiliar with the story, La Befana was a little old lady who had been sweeping her house when the Wise Men knocked on her door. They were looking for Baby Jesus and asked La Befana for directions. They then invited La Befana to join them. The old woman refused, saying she had work to do.
When it was dark, a great light and angels appeared in the sky. La Befana realized that the Wise Men weren't kidding about somebody special being born that night. Broom in hand, La Befana tried to catch up with the Wise Men. She never found them or Baby Jesus. Every year she searches for Baby Jesus and leaves presents for good little boys and girls.
La Befana took care of me for four years. Then we moved to College Point so we could live closer to Lily Tulip where Pop worked. Then it was time for my sister to be born. While Ma was in the hospital I stayed with Aunt Betty, Uncle Joe and their daughters, MaryAnn and Carol Lynn. It was nice living in Corona again. The next day, Nonni diNoto took me to the local 5 and 10 and gave me a quarter.
"Buy for sister."
I didn't have any idea what a baby sister would want. I liked westerns, so I grabbed a toy gun.
"No. Buy a rattle."
A rattle? That sounded boring, but I bought a pink plastic rattle.
In those days children were not allowed to visit anyone in the hospital. When Aunt Betty visited Ma, she gave the rattle to my new sister. I waited outside the hospital and waved to the window of Ma's room. When Aunt Betty returned she had a gift from my new sister for me: three pieces of chocolate.
Well, wasn't that nice of her. Not as nice as a toy gun, but maybe that was all she could get from where she'd been.
After Rose was born we didn't go to Corona as often. It was easier to walk to the local church instead of driving to St. Leo's. I missed seeing my family.
That September I started kindergarten in St. Fidelis School. Some of the good sisters had wanted to travel and meet exotic heathens in far away places. Well, they almost got their wish. I was the first Maltese child they'd ever seen. College Point had been settled by Irish and German families. It was time for me to learn about America through their eyes.
As Christmas approached, the windows of the German bakeries were filled with the most beautiful cookies I'd ever seen. They were in all kinds of shapes: stars, angels, animals and wreaths. They were decorated with coconut, jam, icing and tiny silver balls. Some of my classmates brought in samples of their mothers' baking. I brought some biscotti. My friends were polite and tasted the dry, double-baked bread. Then we ate the lebkuchen, pfeffernuesse, zimtsterne, and jam filled spitzbuben. The stollen reminded me of panettone. I thought a German Christmas was delicious. I planned to eat German and Italian holiday food every Christmas for the rest of my life.
We helped Sister decorate the Christmas tree with sugar cookies which had been twisted into figure eights. Then Sister told us to gather around her. She was going to read us a story. Sister showed us the picture of Santa Claus and his eight reindeer. My friends were delighted.
I was confused.
I had never heard any of this before. Santa was supposed to slide down a chimney and land in a fireplace. We didn't have a fireplace. We had a huge, oil-burning furnace in the basement. Ma hung our stockings, along with all the other wet laundry, on a clothesline near the furnace. It made awful noises and had fire in it. If Santa landed in it he'd fry like a strufoli. That would end Christmas forever. I didn't think Santa would take such a risk for a total stranger. The lovely cookies felt like lead in my stomach.
Sister talked about Santa checking his list of good little girls and boys. Santa had a list? I knew we were on the Registered Aliens list. Every January the TV reminded Ma to fill out green cards so we wouldn't go to jail or Malta. How could I get on Santa's list? Could Santa get my name from the Aliens list? Did I need to fill out another card?
The afternoon went from bad to worse. Sister told us we could put our letters to Santa in the special mailbox in the classroom. A letter? What language did Santa speak? He'd never heard from me. I wasn't on his list. What could I say?
"Hi, you don't know me, but I'd like some toys." I'd never written a letter to La Befana. She just gave me toys. Would Santa shoot La Befana if she came to College Point? Oh, boy… I was in big trouble.
In kindergarten we learned about God the Father, about how we should pray to Him and tell Him what we needed. I didn't need another Father. I figured if my Pop was always busy working, this guy who took care of everything in the whole wide world would really never have time for me.
I needed a Grandma.
The next time we went to Corona I told Nonni about Santa Claus and that he was in charge of Christmas in College Point. Nonni listened patiently as I explained the rules.
She repeated the main points, "Santa Claus. A letter."
I nodded.
"I fix. I write letter to Befana. She give to Santa. No hard feelings. Christmas come."
I had my doubts. Nonni had never been to College Point. Maybe nobody ever had to change from La Befana to Santa Claus. Maybe Christmas was lost forever, like some of the packages we never got from Malta.
On Christmas Eve we all gathered at Uncle Joe and Aunt Betty's home in Corona. We had the Christmas Eve dinner. Then we went to St. Leo's for the Midnight Mass. Everything was familiar. Latin and Italian. Why couldn't we have stayed there?
When we were leaving the church I saw a pale cloud in the sky. It looked long and thin, with a sort of lump on one end. For a moment I thought it looked like Santa and his sleigh with eight tiny reindeer. I kept looking at that cloud. It followed us from the church to Uncle Joe's house, where we had panettone. When we left, the cloud was still there. I watched from the car. The cloud followed us from Corona to College Point.
I never noticed clouds before. Did clouds always follow people from one town to another? Was it really a cloud? Sister had told us that Santa had millions of helpers, tiny people called elves. Could it have been an elf picking up the letter from La Befana?
Christmas morning, Pop was eating breakfast while Ma was cleaning Rose. Ma sent me to the basement to get some dry diapers that were hanging by the furnace. Being a big sister wasn't much fun. I pulled down two diapers. Then I noticed some lumps by the furnace. I thought some clothes had fallen off the line. I walked toward the furnace.
But the lumps weren't clothes.
They were boxes.
They were wrapped.
They were presents!
They were for me!!
Santa had found me.
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