When I saw this post on Mel’s Instagram I knew I had to know more about these jars. There is just something about the history and tradition of canning and canning jars that inspires me. When I can I like to reflect on back on what others put in the jars, what was going on in the world at that time, and how a basic tradition has pretty much stayed the same for a hundred years or so. Sure we know more about food safety but the basics and the hard work remains the same.
I’m not sure who found who on Instagram but I am so glad it happened. Mel shares beautiful pictures and stories about her family’s homesteading life. She also has a very interesting blog, Colibri Homestead where she goes more in depth about their homestead, recipes, family stories, and more. I encourage you to pay her a visit.
I commented on the Instagram post asking Mel if she would share with me the story of the jars. Thankfully she agreed and was inspired by my interest. Here is what she wrote.
Grandma G, what I’ve always called her since I’ve been part of the family, is in her mid-90’s and has dementia now. But before she did, she would tell the best stories, leaving out the nitty gritty and focusing on the sparkle and fun. At a time that I was yearning for and putting down roots, she talked about Seattle in a way that really drew me in; like she owned the town and knew all of it’s secrets.
My favorite of her stories are from during the Great Depression and WWII. While I’ve heard many stories of hardship from that time, hers always took on a different and fresh tone. Stories of her dad being able to keep his job as a foreman throughout the Great Depression, and because of it, having the only car in town. Stories of meeting and marrying grandpa, a Merchant Marine, and of working as a telephone operator, then for the Port during the war. Her war stories were of parties and dancing whenever grandpa was in town, and of getting early info on the ships that were coming in with goods so she could line up to get first dibs at the stores. I imagine that we could have been fast friends and wished to have known her and danced beside her during this time in her life.
Grandma G’s younger self always seemed so glamorous, and her wit makes her seem larger than life even now. But as the family cleans out her home to sell, I see more signs than I noticed ever before of a very practical woman. A woman who took good care of all that she owned, seemed to live rather simply so she could have plenty of fun, and who didn’t replace anything until it plumb wore out, as the light pink everything in her bathroom testifies.
As the only current canner in the family, I’ve been the lucky one to inherit her old jars, dusty from sitting boxed up on the shelves in her basement. I’m going through them still, but have found starburst style juice jars from the 50’s that even my single-digit year old niece remembers drinking from when visiting Grandma G in her home, probably alongside her favorite dish to serve: shrimp louie, something that itself feels from a bygone era. A couple of the jars I’ve found date from 1923-1933, from when she was just getting her start in life. Perhaps these were her mother’s jar, passed down to her.
I’ve never heard of one of the jars before: Reliance Brand Wide Mouth Mason. I’ve since learned that Reliance was a coffee company in the Seattle area that packaged its product in their own labeled mason jars, and the practical side, or maybe also the Seattle loving side, of Grandma kept that jar. My favorite though is a simple mason jar with a zinc lid that has half a label still on it with enough of Grandma’s script for me to know it contained some of her homemade salad dressing. I plan to leave that one just as it is, maybe even for my grandkids to find in my shed one day.
For all the glitzy and glamorous stories Grandma G told and how they made it seem like she went through tough times unscathed, these jars remind me that she was also a regular person, eating, drinking, cooking, and doing the everyday stuff of life. And I learned something new about her too. She didn’t can anything else, but every year she would put up jars and jars of apple sauce. Apple sauce was her thing! Now to hope I find a recipe tucked somewhere in the jars, or that the family finds it as they pack up her house. Because I’d love nothing more than to make her some, canned in one of her old jars, in honor of her younger self. Until then, we can always chat over a shrimp louie.
Thank you Mel for sharing the story behind these jars. What a beautiful Everyday Heirloom. I am always on the lookout for more stories to share here at Your Everyday Heirlooms. If you have one to share please leave a comment or send me an email. YourEveryDayHeirlooms@gmail.com You can find us on Instagram too.
I am lucky enough to have received the recipe box of my husband’s Grandma. It is stuffed full of handwritten recipes, ones cut from magazines, and ones typed on index cards. I am making a point to go through it and see what I can find to make. When we were invited to a family cookout I decided that was the time to give the butterscotch brownies a try. Boy were they a hit! If you are looking for a cookout recipe look no more, this is it!
No one specifically remembered Grandma making these brownies but, food was a part of her love language. One of the main motivations for me learning to can is because of her. My husband claims home canned tomatoes made Grandma’s chili the best ever. Looking forward to cooler weather so we can see if I can come at least close to what he remembers. All of her children and grandchildren have many fond memories of delicious meals and desserts she prepared for her family. I am lucky she let me in on her secret ingredient for meatloaf! Maybe someday I will share it with the world.
I think they were especially enjoyable because they were Grandma’s recipe. I made them again to share here (and who am I fooling to eat some more of) and added my own twist.
The recipe with my notes:
4 tbsp butter melted and cooled – I didn’t cool the butter (terrible I know) or melt it all the way and they turned out great
1 cup light brown sugar – I assumed it is a packed cup.
1/2 vanilla – She didn’t say teaspoon or tablespoon so I went with teaspoon.
1 cup sifted flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup chopped walnuts – The first time I made these I just skipped the walnuts. The second time I swapped the walnuts for white chocolate chips. Yummy. White chocolate chips were an excellent idea.
Combine butter and sugar. Stir in egg and vanilla. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Stir in sugar mixture. Add walnuts or white chocolate chips. Spread in 8 inch square pan. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes.
The batter is very thick, like a dough. I pressed it to the edges with my fingers, not a spoon because it is really sticky.
If you can’t wait and cut into them before they cool they will be very gooey and messy. Delicious but needing a fork. If you give the recipe a try I would love to hear what you thought! How does food play a role in your family traditions and memories?
Amy from Brotmanblog has very graciously agreed to let me share a beautiful story she blogged about. Her post Old Friends: Braided Forever is exactly the kind of thing I am hoping to explore with this blog. The amazing stories, friendships, laughter, and love with an everyday heirlooms. Stories shared like this is what makes Your Everyday Heirlooms a community. If you have a something to share I would love to hear it!
In the 1940’s Amy’s mother moved from Brooklyn to the Bronx. Not only did she have to leave behind her beloved dog Sparky but also her very best friend Beatty. Over time the two girls lost touch.
Amy’s mother asked her to try and find her old friend for her. Despite her best efforts Amy was unable to do so. As fate would have it Beatty was also searching and found Amy’s blog! She recognized Amy’s mother in the pictures and left a comment with her contact information. After over 70 years the two friends have reconnected. I am tearing up writing this! So often technology is talked about in a negative way. We need to disconnect more, get outside, talk to people in real life. All those things are true but blogs, social media, and in many other ways the internet can bring us together.
Here is the story of Beatty’s Seder tablecloth taken directly from Amy’s Blog with her permission.
One of the stories my mother shared with me was about Passover at Beatty’s house. Her father led the seder in a very serious way, and as many of us know, a traditional seder can get quite long and quite boring, especially for young children. To keep themselves from misbehaving and talking, my mother and Beatty would braid the fringes on the beautiful tablecloth that adorned the seder table. When my mother shared this memory with Beatty, she said that she also had shared that story with her children.
The tablecloth still exists, and even more remarkable, the braids made by my mother and her best friend Beatty are still there as well.
Here the tablecloth is in all it’s glory.
Thank you Amy for allowing me to share this beautiful story! Please visit Brotmanblog and join Amy as she discovers the history of her family.