Bena Mae’s Kitchen: Have yourself a contented little Christmas

No matter how old I get, Christmas during the Great Depression was the most anticipated, looked forward to holiday ever and I wish I could still feel that tingle of excitement waiting for the big day to arrive.
It didn’t start the day after Labor Day as it does in present times, and with money so scarce, the stores weren’t mobbed with greedy shoppers trying to beat the crowds for the best bargains. Usually our Christmas tree wasn’t decorated until Christmas eve.
Which reminds me of Christmas in another land which was told to me when I was hosting a visitor from Switzerland. She was with the singing group “Up With People” that was touring the U.S. Her home was in the little village which happened to be the same place where the book “Heidi” took place. Since this was one of my favorite reads when I was a teenager, I had many questions to ask her. During one of our conversations I asked her how Christmas was celebrated in her village. I was captivated by her background and the culture that existed there today.
“The whole town waited to decorate the day before Christmas”, she said. “The town square had a festive tree and the people gathered around it and sang Christmas carols on Christmas eve. Then they went home and put up their own tree, decorating it with live burning candles. “ This amazed me, seeing how dangerous it would be if the tree caught fire and I asked her about it.
She replied that the custom had lasted down through the years and nothing tragic had ever happened. She showed me pictures of her family and friends seated around a roaring fireplace holding some kind of grog in their hands, having a very merry time. They were dressed in colorful Swiss sweaters and the picture would have been perfect for a Christmas card.
I was impressed with the difference between her country and mine when it came to celebrating this holy day. And I wondered when the commercialization of Christmas took over in my own country. It wasn’t this way when I was growing up.
We were content with a little pine tree from a neighbor’s farm decorated with home made decorations, the best dinner of the year on the table, a stocking filled with oranges and apples and candy and nuts and suddenly the deprivations and poverty that consumed our lives melted away.
 But will we be content on Christmas morning when we wade through acres of Christmas wrappings and ask ourselves “Is that all there is?”
 MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERY ONE

This story has made the rounds every year but I still laugh when I read it. Enjoy it again.

Christmas Whiskey Cake

1 cup butter
2 cups sugar
6 large eggs
2 teaspoons baking powder
3 cups flour, sifted
1/2 t. salt
1 cup bourbon
1 pound pecans, chopped
3 cups white raisins (or use candied fruit)
1 t. nutmeg

AND

~ a very large bottle of bourbon whiskey ~

First, sample the whiskey to check for quality.
Assemble all of the ingredients. Check the whiskey again.
To be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.
Repeat this step.
Turn on the electric mixer and beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar and cream until beat.
Make sure the whiskey is still okay… try another cup.
Turn off the mixer. Beat six leggs and add to the bowl, then chunk in the cup of dried flut. Mix on the tuner.
Throw in two quarts of flour. Gradually pour in the cow.
Add 2 dried anything.
If the fried druit gets struck in the beaters, pry it loose with a drewscriver. Sample the whiskey and check it again for tonsistency.
Next, sift two cups of salt. Or something. Whateva???
Check the whiskey again.
Now sift the nutmeg and strain your nuts. Add one table.
And the spoon. Of whiskee. Or something. Whatever you find left.
Grease the oven.
Turn the crake pan to 350 degrees. Don’t forget to beat off the turner.
Pour the oven into the batter. Throw the bowl out the window.
Lick the batter off the floor.
Bake 300 minutes at 50 degrees.
Finish the blobble of whishy and fall into bed.