Raspberry Steam Pudding and Fresh Cut Grass

Bite into a ripe, juicy raspberry and every sense comes alive, including memories.

Summertime in the Heights was full of memory-creating moments, and particular scents can bring them back to me faster than a lightning strike.

Even though our old plum tree was damson, with dark purple, juicy fruit, a bite into any plum returns me to that gnarled tree against the Turner’s fence, as I savored the last fruits the tree would produce.

When we moved to Caroline Street, my brothers and I jumped in delight at the fruit trees in the backyard and the black walnut in the front. Definitely the Garden of Eden. Steve climbed the banana cherry and hung in the branches like a simian diner, eating those delicious, sweet yellow cherries with the blush of pink.

Both brothers ate enough green apples to develop stomachs of iron casings.

I chose the plum tree, although it was old and produced few plums by the time we moved in. I can still taste that fruit from the first summer or two. They tasted purple, and there was an aroma of rich summer with every bite.

Fragrance.

Lilac bushes in the back, the big, pale orchid-colored flowers with a scent to equal orange blossoms. They didn’t bloom long, but who could forget that perfume?

Pine needles and cedar sprays. I’d rub the cedar between my fingers and inhale that bright, spicy memory of the cedar chest Grandma gave me, my “hope chest.”

Fresh-cut grass. I’ve tried, over the years, to find a cologne to capture that bright scent, but the closest I came was one that smelled like celery. Not even close.

From the time I was a kid, walking past a newly-cut lawn made me slow down and inhale, and when I lived in the same house as an adult, I volunteered to mow the grass. One, I got out of the house into fresh air. Two, our lawn mower, once started, couldn’t be stopped or it flooded and wouldn’t start again for almost an hour, so no one could interrupt me. And three, I mowed emerald stripes across the backyard while I daydreamed.

Once, though, I was mowing away, humming to myself, when I felt something buzz inside my jeans. Something big. Something droning with intensity. Yikes! I let go of the mower handle and started brushing my leg, trying to knock free whatever had joined me. Out of desperation, I was kicking and jigging in place. I nearly dropped my jeans when an enormous bumblebee hit the ground, stunned. We both shivered before it came to its senses and flew away.

I turned, relieved, to find my daughter staring at me.

“Were you dancing?” she said.

Aromas. Bouquets. Perfumes.

One summer, Mom got all of us kids scented pajamas. I couldn’t identify what mine reminded me of, but it was fresh and exotic. The floral smell lasted through several washings, and I associated it with an open window, reading “The Jungle Books,” and listening to night sounds in the neighborhood.

Slide. Hiss. The sound of a steam iron slapping clean, dry cotton as Mom ironed in the living room. Now, there was a fragrance and sight that lives only in my memory.

Brought home fresh raspberries the other day, and was transported back to the picnic table underneath the sycamore behind the kitchen. Mom Shank had made raspberry steam pudding, a summer favorite, and brought some to share. We sat outside, devouring the soft, warm, cake-like dessert with a little sugar and milk, trying to make the moment last. “Spoon-clanking,” we called the dessert, because of the sound of spoons against the bowls.

Thank you, Mom Shank, for the recipe and the memories.

Thank you, Anne, for not being surprised at your mother slapping her leg and doing some kind of square dance in the back yard.

Thank you, Mom, for scented pajamas and homemade cherry jam and applesauce from our own Macintosh apples.

For every lawn mower and lilac-picker, for every scent that transports us to another time and place, celebrate summer in the Heights, no matter what age.


Shank Raspberry Steam Pudding

1 egg
1 cup butter
1 Tablespoon butter
¾ cup sour milk (milk with Tablespoon of vinegar or lemon juice)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
Enough flour for stiff batter (about 2 cups)
Pinch of salt
1 cup fresh raspberries (fold in gently after mixing the rest)

Place mixture in small pan, place pan in larger pan, cover and steam one hour.
Serve warm with milk and sugar. Spoon-clanking good!