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207 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
My grandmother, Hilma Alina, baked both a cake and a pie every day of the week, and on Fridays she made bread all day long, enough to last her large family for the entire week. Saturdays were reserved for making her special nisua, a fragrant cardamom-flavored Finnish bread, and on Sundays she entertained a house full of visitors from noon until night. A formidable cook and baker, she presided at every meal at the immense dining-room table in the house on Spruce Street in Ashtabula Harbor, Ohio, where she and my grandfather, George Wahlstrom, had settled. [...] My grandfather never failed to get up at the end of every meal to kiss my grandmother and to say to her, "Ali, you outdid yourself; the food was superb." [Introduction, p.8-9]
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[M]y grandmother and her daughters did not follow recipes to the letter. Invariably, they made alterations — a pinch of this, something else omitted, twice as much of some of the flavorings. Sometimes they noted these changes, but usually they did not. I had learned by watching my mother cook and bake, so I knew that when she measured the teaspoon of vanilla called for in the recipe, she really put in two. I knew that she folded the whipped cream into her lemon chiffon pie because I had seen her do it so many times, yet there is no mention of folding in the original recipe. [...] [M]ost of the recipes lacked all or part of the necessary instructions. Since grandmother had taught her daughters in painstaking detail the variety of procedures comprising the art of baking, they found no need to write them down. The techniques were passed on from one to the other and, eventually, to me. [...] I have been buoyed by the conviction that these carefully collected and cherished family recipes should not remain part of a crumbling file, but should be shared with others. [...] It has been greatly rewarding to tease from the yellowed cards and notebook pages and faded handwriting the secrets of grandmother's blackberry cake or Aunt Irma's sour cream twists or mother's peach coffee cake and to savor again the extraordinary desserts I so loved as a child. [Introduction, page 11]