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Granny Cake

By
Debbie Dance Uhrig
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Several weeks ago, I was back in Lewis County, Missouri visiting my dad, Jerry. One evening we took off and drove to Arbela, Missouri to eat fish, at the ‘Catfish House’. It was a fun evening except for the fact that we all ate ‘way’ too much!
I was extremely full, but noticed the goodie table was covered with homemade desserts. Nothing from a food supplier or professional baker at this downhome affair! I viewed a rather short statured cake that had some sort of light glaze drizzled over the top. It had pineapple in it, and it was so delicious. The next day at church we’re telling our friends about the pineapple cake. My high school buddy, Monica, said: “If you could only get the recipe for that cake!” I’m always up for a good challenge, so the research began. Only to discover the word ‘pineapple’ was not a part of the name of this historical cake. Nope, the name of the super delicious cake was: ‘Granny Cake’.

Where did it come from? What’s the history behind this simple, moist, delicious cake? They actually started in Belgium at the end of WWII, however the British style of this cake is very different from the more Americanized ‘Granny Cake’. Original Granny Cakes in America are made traditionally with crushed pineapple. However, I have personally enjoyed them with the addition of coconut, also variations of apple and peach.

The ingredients for a granny cake are usually in every good cook’s kitchen. In my mindset it reminds me of a chess pie. Why? Because the ingredients are extremely simplistic, flour, eggs, milk, butter, sugar, baking soda and fruit. It was inexpensive to make, especially if you lived on a farm and had 3-4 of the ingredients in abundance! Many early comments refer to the cake as a very frugal recipe. Basically, you will have a cake batter, a brown sugar & pecan crumble on top followed by a light glaze, after it’s pulled from the oven. Also, in some of my early reading we find Granny Cakes abundant in the North.

All this research sent me into studies of the great depression and analogies based upon the current economic conditions and the great depression. This has led me to take a closer look at the most common foods during this time period. Many of us who grew up with parents from this era know how our family cooking styles are a strong reflection of this period. So, starting next week we will dive into foods from the great depression, many we still enjoy today.

The Granny Cake version this week is also made with a cake mix. There are so many recipes out there for a total scratch version, you will have no trouble selecting a more conventional route. One thing for sure, your guests are going to love this cake! Wish I were home this week I would make this delicious cake for my dads 92nd birthday!

Granny Cake Recipe
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees
Prepare a 9 x 13 baking dish with vegetable spray

Cake Body:
4 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 (20 ounce) undrained can crushed pineapple
1 box yellow cake mix
Topping:
1 cup brown sugar, could use light or dark
1 cup chopped pecans, of course, Walnuts will work
Top Glaze:
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 1/2 tablespoons heavy cream
1 1/2 teaspoons maple syrup

Gather a large mixing bowl and whisk the 4 eggs until smooth, add oil & whisk again. Empty crushed pineapple into mixture and blend. Lastly; add the box of cake mix and using a metal or wooden spoon stir until blended. I do not recommend a mixer for this recipe. Pour into the prepared baking dish. In a small bowl, stir the pecans and brown sugar together. Sprinkle evenly over the cake so it is totally covered. Before placing the cake in the oven tap it a couple of times on the counter to release any air bubbles. Mine was done in about 34 minutes. But I started checking it at 25 minutes.

Some people never put the glaze on top of this cake. Use a whisk and combine the glaze ingredients. You can drizzle it over the cake about 15 minutes after the cake is done, or as you cut and serve. As I was studying the cake history, I also found some cooks poke holes in the warm cake and pour the drizzle over the top. Any way you slice it, this is going to be a hit! I would seriously consider serving this for a morning brunch, not just as a dessert. For some reason should you use half and half or milk in the glaze, instead of heavy cream, use a little less because it is much thinner than the heavy cream. If you don’t think it’s enough glaze, it’s easy enough to make more.

Thought: Instead of using maple syrup I would think maple flavoring would also work. You’re going to find all kinds of glaze recipes on line, so get creative.

Refrigerate the cake to maintain the freshness.

 

THE NEIGHBORHOOD MOOCH (and Brownie the tattle tale)

By
Sandy Pugh
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When I was between the ages of 3 and 5 we lived in Medicine Lodge in a neighborhood where a lot of retired people lived and I loved to visit them. The little house we lived in sat on an alley and was surrounded with trees except for the side by the alley.
The street to the north of the alley was lower than our house and the street to the south was higher; with a small rise up to the street. I could slip away from the house unseen because of the trees and the bushes that surrounded the house and before mom knew it I would be on the sidewalk on the north side of the block.
No one back then had air conditioning so the windows were always open and you could tell what everyone was baking that day. I learned there were a couple of women that baked cookies several times a week and I would search out the house with the wonderful smell coming out of the windows.
When mom had a couple of nights off during the week from her telephone operator job, 11PM to 7AM, we spent the days together instead of me staying with Grandmother. The days we spent at home together, she was usually cleaning the house so I was free to play outside in my favorite spot or search the neighborhood for fresh baked cookies.
By 10AM I was running down the sidewalk with my nose in the air like a blood hound, my partner in crime Brownie my cocker spaniel, following behind me. I am sure he knew it was a bad idea but never left my side.
As soon as I smelled cookies baking I would go to the door and knock. The little ladies were always glad to see me, or so it seemed, and would let me in. Brownie would sit down on the front porch and wait patiently for me to come out.
I would follow the lady to the kitchen where there was a batch of cookies that were still warm and waiting for me on the cookie sheet. The little lady would put my milk in a tea cup and then pour herself a cup of tea, and we would have a tea party with warm cookies. When the milk in my tea cup was gone I would tell her I had to go home.
She always gave me a cookie to take with me and I would thank her for the tea party and go back to the front door. After letting the screen door bang shut behind me I would give Brownie the extra cookie and we would hit the sidewalk again in search of more cookies.
About the time I was sitting at the second house eating cookies, mom would discover I was gone, but knew to start looking on the street north of the house. When she left the yard she would tear off the skinniest little branch she could find from a bush or tree and walk up the hill to the street.
She would start down the sidewalk on the north side of the street because I never crossed the street. It was not hard for her to find me because Brownie would be sitting on the front porch waiting for me. So when she found him she’d found me.
If she couldn’t see him because I had entered the side or back door, she would call his name and he would come to see what she wanted. When he went to her and sat down in front of her, she would say, “Where is Sandra?” He would jump up, turn on his heel and lead her straight to the house I was visiting.
Mom would knock on the door and the lady that I was having a tea party with would give me a wink, then a couple of cookies because she knew who it was. Then she would answer the door. Mom would come to the kitchen, grab my hand and drag me from the chair and out of the house. During our retreat from the house she would apologize to the lady because I had begged her for cookies.
The lady always told mom she loved having me stop for a tea party, but mom would say, “She is not to leave the yard without permission and is not supposed to beg for cookies either”. The lady would give me a smile as we exited the door because she knew I was in big trouble.
I knew the second we were on the sidewalk and started the walk home that I would get it because I could see the switch in Mom’s other hand. She would apply that thin branch (that whistled as she swung it through the air) to my bare legs every few steps all the way home.
Brownie could only follow along behind us, very happy that he was a dog, because he wasn’t in trouble. He also knew he would sit beside me after the spanking while I cried with my arms around his neck and my head next to his.
But even the sting of the switch did not deter me from my visits to the older ladies kitchens in the neighborhood. When I got a chance for a tea party the temptation was just too much for the neighborhood mooch to pass up; I would be out of the yard and running down the sidewalk searching for the smell of warm cookies. To contact Sandy: [email protected]

Of Rain Crows and Sundogs

By
Steve Gilliland
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Just as I have no clue how a weather front can affect fish that spend their lives under water, I also fail to grasp how the dreadful heat can affect both my physical and mental state as I sit in an air-conditioned home, but for me it certainly does. As I sat in front of my computer today searching for words to put on the screen, I found this old column from years ago and decided it warrants dusting off for this week.
During a hot, dry spell a few years back, a friend told me she’d been hearing the call of a “rain crow” and asked me if I knew what kind of bird it was. She also said she had been seeing “sundogs” in the evening and that they were both supposedly predictors of rain. Now I remember someone’s grandpa talking about a rain crow when I was a kid, or storm crow as he called it, and I knew absolutely zero about sundogs, but given their supposed rain prediction powers, I delved deeper.
I found numerous references to a “rain crow” and all seemed to agree that it was in fact a Yellow- Billed Cuckoo (which does not appear in any Kansas bird books I own.) Few, however wanted to stick their neck out concerning its rain prediction ability; one website tossed around the figure of 3 days from first hearing one until rain. Sundogs on the other hand, were quite a popular subject, and are ice crystals high in the atmosphere that, when sunlight shines through them can give the illusion of a second or third sun on each side of the actual sun. I’ve seen sun dogs a couple times over the years in the winter. But once again, however, sundogs ties to predicting rain were sparse.
My search turned up so many proverbs and “old wives’ tales” concerning rain that I decided to enlist the help of Ross Jansen, Meteorologist at KWCH TV channel 12 and play an Exploring Kansas Outdoors version of Myth Busters. I read several rain prediction fables to Ross over the phone and got his take on each. Concerning sundogs, Ross said there is some correct science in tying sundogs to rain, in that the same ice crystals that cause them have the ability to form clouds containing rain. But as far as them predicting rain, Ross was hesitant to agree to that. Next, I asked him about a ring around the moon predicting rain, and again he said that a ring around the moon indeed meant there was moisture at some level, but said it was so high up that the chance of it finding its way to us in the form of rain was nil. “Red sky at night, sailors delight; red sky in morning, sailors take warning” is another widely quoted proverb about rain. Since weather patterns typically move across the country from west to east, the gist of the explanation is that a red morning sky means we are seeing sunlight through a weather system yet to come, while a red evening sky means we are seeing a weather system moving away from us. Ross said he has indeed noticed that morning thunderstorms often bring with them a red morning sky, and that there was again some correct science accompanying the tale. But also like the previous two fables, he felt it was a stretch to say that they actually predicted rain. We agreed to call these three myths SEMI-BUSTED.
Another proverb I found read “When grass is dry at night, look for rain before the light; when grass is dry at morning light, look for rain before the night.” This one uses the presence or absence of dew at certain times to predict rain. Ross says that the presence or absence of dew depends solely on night time temperatures and dew point temperatures and saw no link between them and a prediction for rain. We declared this one BUSTED. The next was an Indian proverb that says “If the moon is red, of rain she speaks.” Ross said a red moon is red only because of smoke or dust; again BUSTED. Next, I asked him about something I’ve always thought to be a rain predictor, that being the fact that birds fly lower and congregate on power lines just before a storm because the lower air pressure preceding a storm makes it tough for them to attain lift and fly. He debunked that also by telling me that when air pressure is low, the air as a whole actually rises; BUSTED again.
I could literally spend the next month cussing and discussing all the old-time weather fables and proverbs I found while writing this piece. To those of you who put stock in any of the rain predictors I cast doubt upon, I’m sorry to have rained on your parade (yes, most certainly pun intended) even though I’m certain some of these hold true some of the time. Ross even told me that his mom swears by an old tale that says it will rain 100 days after a fog; she even keeps track of it on her calendar. Maybe that will win me back some points and make you feel better again about your favorite weather tales knowing that the weather guy’s mom even believes them! …Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors.
Steve can be contacted by email at [email protected]

 

Larry Browning Honored For 51 Years Service To Lyon County Fair

By
Frank Buchman
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“What are you making me do?” Larry Browning chuckled as he headed into the grandstand at the Lyon County Fair in Emporia, flanked by excited 4-H’ers and grateful volunteers.
According to a feature story by Ryan Brooks, editor of the Emporia Gazette, Browning, 83, wasn’t expecting any fanfare when he was out volunteering with the 4-H rodeo.
It’s what he does every year, after all. But, regarded as a true pillar of the community, Browning was celebrated for his remarkable 51 years of service to the Lyon County Fair.
“The big thing with Larry is I don’t ever have to call and ask him to do something. Or I don’t have to wonder if he’s gonna show up and help,” said Amy Jenkins, rodeo secretary. “It’s like a guarantee every time we use the arena he’s going to be there.”
Jenkins said Browning always has everything set up in the arena for every rodeo. And, long retired from Kansas Power & Light, he works on the electricity.
“Larry is always there, and you know. It’s nice to have someone you can count on consistently without asking for help.”
Browning said he moved to the Emporia area when he was just six years old from Missouri. In all that time, he’s missed just two years of the Lyon County Fair. One absence was due to a military deployment. Another was spent assisting his granddaughter, who had qualified for the World Quarter Horse Show.
“They got along fine without me,” Browning said.
When asked what kept him coming back year after year, Browning had a simple answer.
“It’s the kids,” he said. “That’s what keeps you going. My great-granddaughter showed at the fair this year. She showed her horse, a heifer and a sheep, and her mother showed and her grandmother, my daughter, showed for several years. That’s what keeps you coming back.”
Jenkins said Browning’s enduring commitment to the Lyon County Fair has left an indelible mark on the community. Not everyone realizes the work he puts in and the impact he’s made.
“I say all the time, things like, ‘Hey, thanks for your help.’ He’s like, ‘Well, I didn’t do much,’” Jenkins said. “And then maybe it’s not as much as what he used to physically be able to do, but it’s still the things that the rest of us don’t have to think about and he does it without even being asked. Larry just does it because it comes naturally.”
Rodeo announcer Carl Lee Stueve said Larry Browning was known for his willingness to help out wherever he was needed.
Browning said he has watched generations of families come through the fair, getting to know the children and grandchildren of some of the 4-H’ers he was working with when he first started volunteering.
“You don’t know all these kids now because they come in at a young age, but you know their parents,” Browning said. “That’s why you’re here, so they can get a fair shake and get to do what they love.”
+++30+++

Grain Bin To Texas

By
Frank Buchman
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“It hadn’t been used for original purpose in many years and had become a junk catchall.”
When moving to the ranch 52 years ago, the what-then-appeared high-quality steel grain bin seemed an asset.
It served for a few years as storage for the always-very-small milo crop produced on the uphill gumbo land. Before long, farming costs were more than was being produced so the land was planted to tame grass brome.
Hog and horse feed corn-milo mixture was purchased from the elevator, hand-scooped off, and stored in the bin. That became too much work, so a trailer was acquired for hauling feed where it stayed until fed to livestock.
After being empty for a while, the bin became a storage unit so to speak. Soon, everything on the ranch that wasn’t being used was pitched into the grain bin. The grain bin became so full it was nearly impossible to shut the door.
A friend looked in the grain bin and saw something he wanted and asked what it’d cost. “Free, if you’ll take all of the rest of the stuff in there,” was the response.
He agreed and had two pickup loads before everything was cleaned out. But the bin soon filled back up with things “to be used later.”
After a half century, it was decided the bin was in the way and should be removed. Several attempts to sell it locally failed. One farmer said he’d take the bin free if he could figure out how to get it moved.
Eventually, the grain bin was consigned to an online computer auction without much optimism for any bidding. But surprising, it did sell to somebody in Texas.
“Do you know how to move it?” the buyer was asked when calling about getting the bin.
“Oh sure, we buy grain bins all the time,” the woman replied.
Several days later, a big fancy pickup pulling a flatbed gooseneck trailer pulled into the ranch yard.
It was only a few hours, and the rusted bin was completely dismantled bolt by bolt. They hauled it about nine hours to near Houston, Texas.
“We will advertise the grain bin and resell it,” the buyer said. “They’re in high demand for people making gazebos, marketplaces, even storage.”
Reminded of Acts 13:14-52: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
+++ALLELUIA+++
XVII–35–8-27-2023

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