Nissa-Nassu

In my work-in-progress children’s pioneer novel, “The Wormy Bean Winter,” six-year old Emmi tells two-year-old Sunni about Aunt Riika’s famous Nissa-Nassu (Finnish Christmas Piggy Cookies) that they always have at their aunts for Thanksgiving. This results in their saying the name both forward and backwards, "Nassu-Nissa...Nissa-Nassa," as well as much noisy “oinking” and even noisier giggling!

Jana attempted to nurture her Finnish heritage by making Piggy Cookies for Christmas.

In the photo they did look “piggy.” (Messy like pigs anyway!), due to coloring the frosting with some seedy raspberry jelly or something to make them pink!  I’m sure they were delicious. And I admire her spirit in fostering our Finnish traditions.

Happy Holidays!

Lorna Kerin Beall

Note from Jana: Inspired by my mom's story, I decided to try my hand at Finnish Piggy Cookies. Dan combined the Finnish tradition of baking ginger cookies with his own love of local Tohono O'odham heritage ingredients by making yummy mesquite-ginger cookies. Unfortunately, the piggy shape and ginger-mesquite taste was covered by the raspberry frosting. I didn't have a pig cookie cutter so I cut out circles and sculpted piggy ears, snout, legs and tail with my fingers. I made another cookie of a piggy face with a raised snout. They sorta looked like pigs until I put the speckled pink frosting on them. I tried making eyes with little dollops of white icing and a shiny round sprinkle. When I applied black eye lasses on it, Dan's mom exclaimed, "Oh! It's a face!" 

Heirloom Traditions

Our little "Tree of Life" represents our relationship. Can it withstand the weight of our first Christmas? 

Traditions are like heirlooms handed down by families through generations: trimming the tree, sending Christmas cards, favorite holiday treats, singing Christmas carols, hanging lights, going to Christmas Services, and the big family dinner.

Are family traditions worth the time and effort? Actually, the busier we get, the more important it is to hold onto them. Traditions help us stay connected to lost loved ones, ethnic heritage, religion, family, and friends.

One vanishing tradition is sending Christmas cards. I remember looking up in wonder at Mom's many Christmas cards hanging from a red ribbon.  This year I got five cards. Five! For years I sent newsletters sharing our family story to keep distant friends and relatives in the loop. But now I can’t seem to find the time. Instead I post Christmas greetings on Facebook and find personalized memes for friends. (I sent a Finnish Christmas stamp meme to my cousin and a Christmas gnome to my sister.) The great thing about sending cards is that it keeps us connected to distant family and friends.

This year we combined new technology with old. We took a photo with our cell and created the card on the computer.

Another tradition is holiday baking. Sure, it’s easier to buy cookie-cutter perfect cookies from the bakery, but what are we missing?  When I mix up a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookie dough, it brings back warm memories of making cookies with our mom, with all of us kids waiting around to lick the bowl. What better way to spend precious time with your family. This year we added a cookie decorating party to our traditions and shared a delightful afternoon with friends.

The "Cookie Queen" reigns over her subject.

Dan and I are spending our first Christmas together. After our Thanksgiving fiasco caused by warring traditions (when the words, “Scott doesn’t do that,” were uttered); Dan and I discussed how we can better handle the holidays. We have decided to meld our traditions and make some of our own. We’ll open our presents on Christmas Eve (my tradition) and eat tamales (Dan’s tradition). Today we were googling new Finnish recipes (reflecting my ethnic heritage.) We got a good laugh at the Finnish comfort food (don’t ask me how to pronounce it) nakkikastike – hot dog sauce! Lol! (I also posted the picture on my mom’s Facebook page – along with a squeaky cheese recipe (leipajuusto) that mom mentions in, “Model-T Biscuits.”) For the first time, we will be making Finnish cardamom coffee cake and coffee for breakfast Christmas morning.

To deal with the addition of two cats in the house (Dan's), we decided to forgo a traditional Christmas tree (Jana's). I realized that the part I would miss the most were our sentimental ornaments and lights reflected in shiny red and gold bulbs.  So we decorated a pole over the sliding glass door (Dan called it our festivus pole) and hung the boys' baby ornaments on our tree lamp.

One reason we hold onto Christmas traditions is to recreate the magical memories we experienced as children. A favorite memory was going Christmas caroling with our church youth group. I loved belting out Christmas songs until my throat was raw. My ex and I recreated that magic by hosting popular Christmas Sing-a-long parties. But trappings of those parties - the song books, candles (lit during Silent Night) and jingle bells have been packed away in the shed ever since my eldest son became an atheist.

Another cherished tradition was to make Nana’s chicken soup with homemade noodles.  Carrying on that tradition, I can feel her presence as the noodle dough sticks to my fingers. This year I saved time by using roasted chicken and broth in the chicken soup. And I still got to make the homemade noodles (the part that made her soup special.)  I imagine Nana is looking down and shaking her head in distaste. 

One way to make traditions last is to simplify them. Mom calls me every year to ask for my easy fudge recipe. We set out several fun ingredients (marshmallows, Reese’s Pieces, coconut, nuts, raisins, etc.) and the boys come up with their own creations.

It is so easy and fun that it's become a Christmas tradition. Here's the recipe if you'd like to try it...

JANA’S EASY FUDGE

3 cups chocolate chips

1 can sweetened condensed milk

1 tablespoon butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

Put all the ingredients in a microwave-safe bowl, microwave for two minutes (stirring after one minute and at the end), and spread onto a greased cookie sheet (or into a giftable mug) and refrigerate. Easy!

Why is it as we get older we care more about Christmas traditions? We long for that connection with our past and the joys of our youth. 

Have a Merry Christmas full of heirloom traditions!

Jana

Heritage Gardens (Healthy Traditions in the Making)

As Thanksgiving approaches, I reminisce about how, as a child, I was intrigued by the idea of living off the land like Native Americans. I loved climbing on the boulders in Apple Valley, California, (near Hesperia, where I grew up) to find holes worn in the rocks from grinding grains. On a recent visit to Tucson Botanical Garden, my boyfriend, Dan, and I were drawn to the Tohono O'odham heritage garden and the corn grinders.

(What fun! You can pay 25 cents for a handful of seeds to grind. Of course, being accustomed to modern conveniences, I opted for the corn that had been partially ground by the kid before me...)

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Dan took pictures of their irrigation system as a guide for the heritage garden we will be growing as research for his humanitarian farming project, The Pineapple Project.

We cleared out backyard for a test garden...

I love this project! Aside from assisting subsistence farmers in third world countries, it gives Dan's endless curiosity free range to research sustainability and returning to local heritage plants. Yes, we have attended plenty of food lectures and documentaries. Our idea of a good time is perusing the Tohono O'odham heritage cook book, From I'itoi's Garden. This all suits Dan's life style of eating organic foods and baking his own bread. (Lucky me!) We enjoy experimenting with all kinds of indigenous grains - much healthier than processed white flour.

Amaranth: Weed or Food?

Dan is also interested in using local plants (we call weeds or pests) as sources of food. In his research, he found out that the Amaranth, that is growing wild in the utility road behind our house, is a heritage food and more healthy than quinoa! Unfortunately, it was too late in the season to be edible. Prior to that, Dan waited patiently for our huge prickly pear cactus to bear fruit, but it never did. He is looking forward to the Mesquite bean to be in season for picking. It's tough being a programmer/gatherer.

We are excited about the new restaurants inspired by Tohono O'odham ingredients. These restaurants represent more than just a culinary trend. The Desert Rain Cafe is educating this generation about the health benefits of eating traditional foods. (Chiolin, the cholla cactus flower buds that their ancestors harvested, balance the blood sugar which is good for diabetes, a growing concern of the tribe.) We plan to make a pilgrimage to Mission Gardens at the base of A Mountain in Tucson. (It's by the Mercado - if you wanna grab a bite while there.) We already made the trek to Native Seeds where we bought Tohono O'odham staples: tepary beans and mesquite flour.

Last night we finally ate tepary bean stew with mesquite flour tortillas. (I say finally because it took 24 hours for these tiny beans to cook in the crock pot - even though we soaked the beans overnight.) But the stew was delicious. We found adding chipotle chilis gave it a nice smoked flavor. The homemade tortillas resembled Flintstone Frisbees. (Sorry, Dan. Your bread is yummy though! lol) To redeem himself, Dan just came in with a fresh, soft batch - thanks to the wonder of baking powder! Great with butter and prickly pear syrup!

UPDATE: Dan and I are excited to announce our new blog:

http://raglooms-heirlooms.blogspot.com/2016/02/starting-where-we-live.html

Servin' up Wormy Beans with Sisu

 by Lorna Kerin Beall

“Ugh,” “Ick,” and “Eww,” Nana's grandchildren responded when she told them how her family survived on wormy beans one hard Minnesota winter when she was a child. Nana smacked her lips, "Yum! Protein!"  I wasn’t so shocked. After all, didn’t they normally eat weird things like pickled pigs feet, and pig brains (that went by the name of headcheese?) I’d even heard that they, as well as my own family, ate rattlesnakes!

Little did I know at the time that wormy beans would play such a big part in the middle-grade novel I would someday write. “The Wormy Bean Winter," is based on real-life events of my Finnish American family. Though, as my husband Richard likes to point out,  it was his side of the family who actually ate the wormy beans!

In a card promoting my manuscript, I included the synopsis, “Kata didn’t realize that something as tiny as a wormy bean could be the difference between disaster and survival. While homesteading on the South Dakota prairie during the harsh winter of 1919, her family was barely surviving on their last bag of beans. When they discovered they were eating beans infested with worms, Pappa went to work in a copper mine leaving 12-year-old Kata in charge of the outdoor chores in the bitter cold. What was worse was that Papa’s confidence in Kate was bean-sized, too. She had to prove her sisu, the Finnish word for guts and determination, while she faced challenges like her baby sister’s ear nearly freezing off, vicious old “Three-Toes” the wolf, and all her sisters’ refusal to eat the wormy beans even if it meant starvation!”

I loved writing the book and coming to know more about my family. And I am so thankful for the humor, sisu and faith that both our families had when they helped settle this wild and wondrous country.  

Weavings of Another Kind: Braided Pulla and Love.

by Lorna Kerin Beall

In Model T Biscuits Mama, Step-daddy and six-year-old Lorna head cross country in their Model T picking apples along the way to stretch their meager nest egg until they can find a little farm of their own. Mama shows her sisu, the Finnish word for guts, determination, and ingenuity, when she’s faced with no oven in the apple-picking camp. She surprises Lorna and Step-Daddy by baking biscuits on the engine (actually the flat head) of the Model T.

Earlier in the story, Step-Daddy recalls Mumu's baking. He rubs his belly and says, "That house always smelled of fresh bread." 

Lorna answers, "Know how we made it? Know how Mumu and I got the bread so skinny? And made the outside so crispy? We rolled the dough out flat. Then poke, poke, poke, we poked holes in it. Then we baked it smack-dab! - on the bottom of the oven. Mumu even let me..."

While I was writing Model T Biscuits, I tried to weave some Finnish customs and language into the story. One way I did this was by including traditional Finnish food. My mama, as well as my Finnish Mumu who raised me up until this point, loved to bake heino leipä: Finnish flat bread, pulla: Finnish cinnamon rolls, and other braided kinds of pulla. My Mumu’s little home in Buffalo, South Dakota, always smelled of fresh-baked pastry. And the kahvi pot was always on for neighbors or passers-by who were welcome to pop in. Tugging her little sled, my small cousin, Willo Boe and our Mumu delivered homemade bread to shut-ins and other friends. In my story, the family heads out West and Lorna frets that Mumu won’t be able to deliver bread without her, since the wheel on her wobbly little wagon is broken.

The smell of fresh baked goods brings back cherished memories of Mumu and Mama baking in our big black cast iron stove. All kinds of love was kneaded and braided into these Finnish delights.

Here are two recipes that I included in prologue of, “Model T Biscuits.”  

MODEL T DROP BISCUITS

(Kids, you’ll need your Mama’s or Mumu’s help.)

Start up the Model T engine. Let it warm up.

If you don’t have a Model T, heat oven to 450 degrees.

Model T directions: Grease tin cake pan

Bake covered.

Oven: Use a tin cake pan. Do not grease. Do not cover.

2 cups flour

l/2 tsp. salt

4 teaspoons baking powder

l/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

2 teaspoons sugar

l/2 cup of lard or shortening

¾ cup buttermilk (Used canned milk in the Picking Camp.)

Mix dry ingredients. Add the lard or shortening.

Then add milk. Stir gently till soft dough forms.

Model T: Drop by spoonfuls on a greased cake pan.

Oven: Drop by spoonfuls onto an ungreased cake pan..

Model T: Check frequently.

Oven: Bake for seven to nine minutes.

*Or buy canned biscuit dough from the supermarket.

Make and bake according to directions on the package.

Serve the biscuits hot with butter and honey.

IF POSSIBLE LOOK AT SUNRISE WHILE EATING.

MUMU’S THIN BREAD

(Kids, you’ll need Mama or Mumu’s help!)

l package or cake of yeast

l/4 cup lukewarm water

2 cups lukewarm milk

3 tablespoons sugar

l l/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons shortening

6 cups flour

Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water. Mix milk, sugar and half of
flour into the yeast mixture. Melt shortening and pour over the mixture.
Add the salt and the rest of the flour a little at a time kneading in to make a stiff dough.
Turn out onto a floured board. Knead again.

Flatten out dough with a rolling pin (roll-roll-roll) to about
l l/2 inch thickness. Punch holes with a fork (poke-poke-poke.)
And brush with milk.
Let rise only a short time.
Bake on greased cookie sheet at 425 degree oven about 30 to 40 minutes.

*Or buy frozen dough from store. Thaw. Put on floured board. Flatten with a rolling pin to about 1& ½ inches.
Punch holes with fork. And brush with milk.
Let rise only a short time.
Bake on greased cookie sheet at 425 degree oven 30 to 40 minutes.

 EAT THE THIN BREAD WITH YOUR LOVING FAMILY!

IN YOUR OMA TUPA! (YOUR OWN HOME.)

How I Came to Write "Model T Biscuits"

Lorna Kerin Beall

    I have a very poignant memory of one Sunday when I was 6-years-old. Recalling this incident is what inspired me to begin writing Model T Biscuits. Remembering the experience makes me feel like I am that little girl again.

    I was attending the Cave Hills Lutheran Church, near Buffalo, South Dakota, with my Mumu (my Finnish Grandma.) I clung to Mumu’s hand. Though all the folks, who seemed very big and old to me, were friendly, I had a lonesome feeling way down in my tummy. I missed my freckly, redheaded Mama. Unable to find work close by, she was away working in the big city of Chicago as a governess. I had trouble saying the word “governess,” and Mama had told me I could say, “nanny.” She sent me a postcard with lots of tall skinny buildings on it. They looked scary. But the XOXO’s she scribbled on the other side of the scary postcard made me feel all better.

    One time when she was home for a visit, she showed me a picture of the boy and girl she took care of, Charles and Jacqueline. They were standing as pretty-as-you-please in front of a big mansion. “Is that our house, Mama?” I’d asked. She shook her head, and reassured me that someday we’d have our oma tupa, our own home. I tried very hard to pronounce the girls name. “Jac – Jac…” Mama told me I could call the little rich girl Jackie. Jackie was dressed in a frilly white dress that was prettier than any I owned. And Charles had a white shirt and shorts on. Also suspenders. I wished I knew what color those suspenders were. Everything in the photograph was black and white. Even Mama’s red hair. She was in the picture, too, holding onto the children’s hands. I didn’t like that. She was my Mama.

    I knew my Mumu loved me. Our little stucco house always smelled for homemade thin bread. She called it a big Finnish word I couldn’t say, something -- leapa. Only she spelled that last part “l-e-i-p-ä.” Mumu and my Aunts loved to chatter away in those hard words that I couldn’t understand. I don’t think they wanted me know what they were saying. From the funny looks on their faces I knew they were telling secrets.

     Mama married my Step-Daddy, and they came to see us. They said they were going to Wash-ing-ton, State, to see his sister, Sill. They promised to take me too. But I didn’t believe them.  I always raised a big noisy fuss when Mama had to go back to Chicago after a trip home, so she’d sneak off in the middle of the night. I was afraid they’d sneak off without me.  So I hid away in he back seat of our
Model T.

    And that’s where and when Model T Biscuits begins.