As schools are starting up, and the summer season is winding down, my thoughts turn to memories of past summers when I was growing up. These include roaming through the woods with friends, swimming at a neighbor’s pool, playing with visiting cousins in the backyard of my aunts’ house, and an occasional sleep over in a friend’s tree house. My family celebrated the summer holidays of Memorial Day, 4th of July, and Labor Day with cook outs. We also shared good times on non-holidays. In addition to the company, the food we had made these times special.
One of my early vivid memories of summer is of my mom making orangeade lemonade. She would slice up oranges and lemons and muddle the fruit in a metal bowl with a wooden potato masher. After adding water and sugar and allowing the fruit time to infuse into the water, it was ready to drink. It was very refreshing. My favorite part was not the final product but sitting on our back stoop eating lemon pieces my mom was ready to discard.
Another summer memory I have was traveling to the New Jersey shore when I was about 6. We left late at night, my dad driving so we would reach the beach around sunrise. On this occasion my grandmother, who had never seen the ocean, came with us. For the trip she made orange cookies flavored with orange juice and topped with sweet orange icing. These were snacks for the journey, and perhaps a way to bribe my brother and me to behave. Whenever I have these orange cookies—or the alternate lemon cookies—I am taken back to that trip to the beach.
For family picnics around summer holidays, my mother often made “Emmy’s” potato salad, named for her good friend who gave her the recipe. The homemade mayonnaise, consisting of vinegar, sugar, mustard, and eggs, was cooked until it was thick and creamy, and then it was poured over the warm cut potatoes mixed with chopped hard-boiled eggs. The potatoes would soak up the flavor of the dressing, and although it was refrigerated and served cold at our gatherings, that first sampling of the warm salad was especially pleasing.
During the summer we would usually make a batch of homemade root beer. My mom had a large crock to mix the extract, sugar, yeast, and water. We filled clean glass soda bottles, which became harder to find when distributors switched to plastic. Once the bottles were filled and capped, the process to complete carbonation took about two weeks. There was something so satisfying about the homemade brew. However, after about 4 weeks under pressure, opening a bottle could result in a root beer eruption, sometimes hitting the ceiling. A couple of times, usually in the middle of the night, a bottle blew its cap off waking everyone.
It was always a treat when my mom made a peach upside down cake. In August we would often buy peaches, sometimes at a fruit stand coming back from visiting family in Indiana PA. When we had an abundance of them, my mother would make this cake. The peach slices were tossed in a buttery brown sugar sauce and arranged on the bottom of the pan. A cake batter was poured on top and baked. Once cooled the cake was flipped onto a plate and the pan lifted off to reveal the golden and juicy dessert.
Another summer memory from my early years was of my dad making homemade ice cream. We had an old hand crank ice cream maker, and my dad would fill up the bowl with the ingredients, add ice and rock salt to surround the maker, and start turning the handle. With each crank of the handle the anticipation grew, waiting for the milk to reach the right consistency to scoop into a bowl and enjoy.
I found a recipe for what I call “kick the can ice cream” that we tried a few times at a family reunion. In a clean small metal coffee can, I added milk, sugar, and flavoring as well as a metal spoon as the mixing paddle. The lid was secured with duct tape and inserted into a larger coffee can filled with ice and salt and taped shut. The can needs to be kept in motion, by shaking, rolling or kicking it for 15 minutes or until it reaches the right consistency. It is surprising how much it reminds me of the ice cream my dad made. It would go great with that upside down cake or in a root beer float.
For me, these foods evoke fond memories of time spent with family. This summer I made a few of these dishes when my siblings and I got together. Cooking and serving recipes of past generations makes it feel like they are still with us and joining in the festivities. Perhaps I’ll reminisce further and enjoy more of these summer tastes before autumn arrives.
Relatively Speaking Blog 