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Stories and Stovies

A Little Note of Introduction:

As I've written these recipes I've felt as though I were in the kitchen with family and friends from times present and past. I've had a wonderful time in your company. I hope you, too, enjoy a little written time together. And, if you are children of my grandchildren, perhaps this will become a way of your being friends with me, enjoying my humor, learning a little about my strengths and failings, and taking to yourself some of that pride in our family history that my Granny gave to me from her grandmother, Jessie Hackett Beat, and her grandmother’s grandmother, Jean Duncan Benvie Morrison.

There are probably some mistakes in this little book: perhaps a mismeasurement or an ingredient left out, a step not taken. But that's part of life, too. And if we're lucky, or blessed depending on your point of view, there are always ways to remeasure, put something back in, a new step to take. As a matter of fact, somehow as part of preparing this for you I pushed a couple of wrong buttons and deleted all my "n"'s. I think I got them all back, one at a time very, very laboriously, I add. So, if a word looks a little strange, this might be one of the "n"'s I missed - so figure it out and add it in to your recipes and the lesson to your life - and let me know where the missed error is so I can make things right. Happy Christmas, 1998


When I learned this as a young girl taking elocution
lessons in Scotland I thought this poem was somewhat
trite and simple. Now that I have become a mother, and
a grandmother and maybe even matriarch of my clan, I see
now there’s quite a bit of truth in these words:

Once upon a time, I planned to be
An artist of celebrity.

A song I thought to write one day
And all the world would homage pay.

I longed to write a noted book,
But what I did – was learn to cook.

For life with simple tasks is filled,
And I have done not what I willed.
Yet when I see your hungry eyes,
I’m glad I make good apple pies.

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