Grandmothers’ Legacy

On Saturday while I was set up selling my baked goods at a local Farmer’s Market, a lady came up to my table. She had bought a cherry pie and some jumbo cinnamon buns last week and she said she had to come find me to tell me how good they were. The pie was the best she has had in years, she said. My pastry was flaky and not too thick. The filling was obviously homemade since she found three pits in it, but it was really good, not too sweet. And the cinnamon buns were the best she has had. She went on to say that if she still had her restaurant she would hire me to come in and make pies and desserts.

Of course I apologized for the pits right away. And I thanked her for coming back to let me know how much she enjoyed everything. The interaction left me feeling justified, pleased, like confirmation that my baking has a positive impact on people.

I know I make good things. Sometimes though, it begins to feel like a chore, and with the costs of everything rising, I wonder if it is worth it. Interactions like the one this weekend remind me of my own value, and that of my talents.

I have been baking since I was a tiny girl, standing on a stool in my mom’s kitchen stirring the pudding, and adding eggs into the cookie dough. I learned my love of making good things in those early days with my mom, and then learned even more from both my grandmothers.

My Norwegian grandma, Alma, my Dad’s mom, taught me how to make Lefse and Krumkake, among other things. Her kitchen smelled of strong coffee, which she brewed in a percolator on the wood stove with no filter so it was poured into cups with a strainer. She grew sweet peas right outside the kitchen window so when we sat at the table and the window was open, the lovely smell wafted in and mixed with the other good smells there. I loved spending time with her and Grandpa. She may have been the kindest woman I have ever known and I aspire to be as kind and gentle, yet strong and resilient as she was.

My other Grandma, my Mom’s mom, also taught me so much. I learned my love of gardening from her, as well as many things in the kitchen. One year we canned a bunch of salmon into tin cans using a hand crank machine to fasten the lids before pressure canning the lot. We made perogies, and cabbage rolls, borscht, and some of the best dill pickles. I loved spending time with her as well.

When I was trying to come up with a name for my baking business, I landed on Alma Ann’s Baked Goods; the first name of each of my grandmothers put together. I love the name for its alliterative ring and because I hope it brings honour to the memory of each special lady.

My mom is 86 and still loves her time in the kitchen. It is harder to spend time together in the kitchen now as she is looking after her husband who is 92, has dementia, and can’t quite navigate his way into my house. They live in a beautiful seniors residence but the kitchen is small and not set up for canning or baking in any quantity. I miss our times in the kitchen and I hope we can have some time canning and baking together again. She is also one of the most generous caring women I know.

I have been blessed in my life to have been taught and influenced by so many strong, intelligent, capable, and loving women. I can only hope I have managed to attain some of the character and qualities I learned from them and aspire to emulate. And I will continue baking in whatever capacity my life will allow.

See you soon at Spirit Square Farmer’s Market, Saturdays 9 am to noon, year round.