Posts Tagged ‘Mennonite recipes’

This is an old Mennonite recipe. Though I didn’t learn it from my Grandma Friesen, it still reminds me of her kitchen in Schoenfeld, Saskatchewan.

2 cups milk
1/2 cup warm water
1 tbs active dry yeast
1 tbs granulated sugar
4 large eggs
1 tsp kosher salt
4-5 cups flour
12 oz Farmers sausage (about 1 1/2 large)
Grease an 11 by 11 by 3-inch baking pan.
In a  small pot, scald milk by warming it over med-high heat until barely simmering. Allow to cool until it is warm but no longer hot (baby bottle temperature).
Meanwhile, proof yeast in water with sugar.
In a large bowl, beat eggs well. Stir in milk and yeast mixture.
Whisk salt into flour and add, one cup at a time into the wet mixture (whisking at first, then changing to a wooden spoon), until mixture is thick and slightly elastic. (It should be like a very heavy muffin batter, but not so thick or overworked that it becomes a dough).
Chop sausage into bite-sized pieces. Fold into batter.
Scrape batter into prepared pan, cover with plastic wrap and set in a warm place to rise for 1 1/2 hours, until nearly doubled.
Bake at 350F for 45 minutes.

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Deep-fried dough: A Mennonite classic!

3 eggs
¾ cup cream
1 cup milk
2 ½ tsp salt
3 tsp baking powder
4 3/4 (approx) cups flour

Whisk together eggs, cream, milk and milk. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, salt and baking powder. Add dry ingredients to wet and bring together until a ball begins to form. Turn out onto a lightly-floured surface and knead to form a soft dough. Place in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap; let rest in fridge for an hour.

Heat a few inches of canola oil in a deep, wide pot, to 375-400 degrees.

Meanwhile, roll dough out, one third at a time, to ¼-inch thick. Cut into rectangles, approximately 3 by 5-inches. Cut a short, lengthwise slit in the centre and fold one end through. Place, two at a time, in the hot oil, turning to cook both sides to a light golden brown. Remove to a baking sheet covered with paper towel to drain and cool slightly. Serve with spears of watermelon.

Note: Roll kuken go stale by the next day, but the dough freezes well, and can be pulled out for small fresh batches all summer.

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You know you’re a Mennonite when…

2 1/4 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar

3/4 cup butter
1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 cup buttermilk
1 fresh egg
1 tsp vanilla

For the fruit:

1 3/4 lb fresh rhubarb, chopped

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

In a large pot, stew rhubarb with 1/2 cup water and 3/4 cup sugar (less or more) for 20 minutes, until softened.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour and sugar. Cut in butter until the mixture is crumbly. Remove and set aside 1 cup of the crumbs, and into the remaining, add baking powder and baking soda.

Whisk together milk, egg and vanilla. Make a well in the centre of the crumbs and add milk mixture. Bring together with a fork until just combined.

Spread 2/3 of the batter into a buttered 9×13” baking dish. Top with rhubarb. Dot with remaining batter and sprinkle reserved crumbs over top.

Bake at 350F for 40 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Cool completely.

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Pie Am Hutterite (originally published in the Kelowna Daily Courier and Kamloops This Week newspapers, April 2010)

There was always something about them, the way they’d come into town, aproned and polka dotted, that made me want to put on a kerchief and slip into the middle of their other-worldly little flock.
Maybe it had something to do with the way they looked so unselfconsciously well fed.
Still, all I knew about the Hutterites who collectively farmed much of the land outside of town was this: They had the best sewing machines money could by (this according to my mother). And they raised the best chickens. If you were in the market for a hen to roast, soup or stew, you hoped to have, or know someone who had, a tie to one of their communities.
I also knew that they were related to my people, the Mennonites, which as every good Anabaptist knows, are just loosey goosey Amish. End of story.
I’m trying to remember whether I always knew that my great-great-grandmother, my grandmother’s grandmother, grew up Hutterite. A fact that, when my mother told it to me recently, came as a familiar surprise.
So when my book/cookbook fairy sent me a copy of Mary-Ann Kirkby’s memoir, I Am Hutterite, I fell straight into it like butter into flour.
I’m not sure I can adequately explain the pull towards being knit into an extended family that means never being far from a sister. I know, however, you will understand when I say that I feel a food lover’s affinity, a profound nostalgia, perhaps even a genetic yearning for their food, which is so similar, yet different, from what I remember.
Admittedly, though, I’m not well typed to enjoy group living. Partly because I wasn’t raised that way. And, too, I’m reserved, preferring long swaths of solitude and the kind of work that requires it. My elementary school report cards may have said, “Darcie plays well with others,” but it didn’t always come easily.
Reading about the the community kitchen of Mary-Ann Kirkby’s childhood, however, where the women gathered to cook daily feasts, was food for re-imagination.
Kindergarten, Klieneschul, didn’t begin until the children filled up on “Bowls filled with cream so thick it couldn’t be poured, baskets of golden buns, and jars of strawberry jam.”
And the language, hearty with words like Essenshul, Essenshul Ankela and Nochesser (Eating School, Eating School
Grandmother and After Eaters), is almost enough by itself to fill up on.
Needless to say, after reading I Am Hutterite, I did three things.
First, I baked buns and bought a jar of clotted cream to go with the last of the strawberry freezer jam from last summer.
Second, I ordered two more copies of the book for my mother and sister. Daphne swallowed hers whole. Mom wasn’t able to crack the spine before it was borrowed by aunts and cousins. She’s not sure, now, where it is, but suspects it might have crossed two borders and ended up in Mexico.
Next, I contacted the author and asked for a Hutterite recipe to share with you. A few days later, she replied with this:
“All my readers tell me I’ve made them hungry, so my next book is a Hutterite cook book. As a young girl growing up at Fairholme Colony in southern Manitoba, [Hutterite Sucre Pie] was my very favorite dessert and remains at the top of my list today. This pie is as simple as it is sensational. It will make you happy and possibly fat because you will not be able to stop eating it until it is gone. This pie is the reason I will never be skinny.”
So, if skinny is not on your agenda, or if any part of you is, was or wants to be Hutterite, even just for eating purposes, you are invited to try Mary-Ann Kirkby’s recipe, then waddle off, fat and fed.
Hutterite Sucre Pie
1 cup heavy cream
1 egg
2/3 cup sugar
2 tbsp. corn starch
Beat together above ingredients and pour into a cooled pie crust that has been baked for 10 minutes at 350 degrees F.
Sprinkle with cinnamon and bake for another 35-40 min.
Book news! If you love Mary-Ann Kirkby’s I Am Hutterite, please check out Mennonites Don’t Dance by Darcie Friesen Hossack.

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