Most Sundays my stepson, Jack, comes over and either makes breakfast for me and his dad — or we go out for brunch with him and his girlfriend. This Sunday, however, I had some left over shrimp and decided to make shrimp tacos. They were absolutely delicious!

But that’s not why I’m writing today. I’m writing because we got into a conversation about old-time recipes, and how people cooked in the past. Jack and his girlfriend are trying to live their lives in a more traditional manner, one that harkens back to a time when we didn’t throw away everything, when the things we used (such as razors) were finely made and kept for a lifetime.

The conversation led me to dig out my mother’s old Boston School Cookbook which she passed on to me the first time I got married. (The marriage didn’t last but I still have the book.) It’s a wonderful old weathered tome but I never use it for an actual cookbook. I’ll admit, even though I love a beautiful cookbook, I get most of my recipes from the Internet, including this delicious Ethiopian recipe.

I decided it was time to pass the book on to Jack (as opposed to my daughter who never makes anything more complicated than a bean burrito) when lo and behold out of the book fell an old recipe on yellowed paper. It was for plum pudding. I’m not sure why this image is so blurry because in my photo app it looks great! If you want a clearer picture, just send me your email address.

“Is this your mom’s handwriting?” Jack asked.

I looked carefully at the writing. “Nope. That’s Skipper’s,” I said.

Skipper is the name all the grandchildren called our grandmother. I turned the recipe over and, indeed, there was letter from my grandmother to my mother. I couldn’t see the date but from the details in the letter I could tell it must have been shortly after World War II.

Here’s the letter:

Dear Rosalind,

Thanks for your very newsy letter. We will see if we can hear your radio program on the 18th. Also I’m glad the boys are making wreaths and such things. We spent Sunday gathering greens — cutting our hemlock tree and decorating the house inside and out. Fun. 

Bob has set up the going around little tree, like you have, on the piano. We start it whirling and push Roger up where he can see it, and he is entertained for a long, long time. 

Hazel has an apartment now — sort of a dingy place but her own home. And she is very happy. [???] is trying to get Mike (my German uncle) a Canadian visa so they can come over next spring. It seems that because of the Schulte’s aid to England during the war, they may reward him with a visa. 

Oh, I guess I had better tell you what I am sending you in the package due there about now. I have for you a turkey roasting pan. So don’t go out and buy one. 

Turn over for the Plum pudding recipe. 

Love

Mother

To be honest, this letter felt like a sign from the universe — or from Skipper herself. I’ve been mulling the idea of writing a World War II story inspired by my family. I couldn’t discern the name of whoever was trying to help my uncle Mike get a visa after the war. The word is blotched, but it looks like “Pea”? Anyway, I’ll be delving into this knotty mystery and hopefully with the help of my cousins, the story will emerge.