Two months ago my mom died. Yet, it seems like she’s still alive, and like she left years ago. In fact, I wasn’t able to mourn her for the six years she suffered from dementia, but since she’s died, I’ve celebrated her vitality and misdeeds and shenanigans and mostly, her love for her family, in big and small ways.
I wonder if this is one of the recipes she got from her mom. Quite possibly, since it seems old-fashioned. This is not my daughter’s recipe (as in “this is not your mother’s jeans”). However, I chafe at the idea that anything from a mother is out dated and stodgy.
I digress. Old-fashioned is “in” now. Look at how many young women have been making bread from scratch – banana bread, sourdough bread, no-knead bread. The old is new once again.
But again, I digress. My mom shared her blueberry recipe with me after I was one-year married and she and my dad moved from another state to live 20 minutes away from me. Suddenly, we were more compatriots than mom and daughter. We drank scotch on the rocks together, we played tennis together, and we even giggled like school girls as we gossiped about “life.”
Out came her old (and I mean, old) recipe box. My parent’s home was a block away from a small farm, and in the summer my mom would buy boxes of fresh blueberries. And we’d make her mom’s Blueberry Cake.
But it’s not really a cake. More like a buckle. I’ve always wondered why some desserts are called a “buckle.” I looked it up. When a fruit “cake” bakes, the batter rises, but the berries and crumb topping weigh it down, which causes the surface of the cake to buckle.
Sounds like our relationship – mom’s and mine. Our love for each other was high and light, but the “fruit” in our life weighed us down: my dad’s alcoholism and their separation, my divorce and remarriage to a man who moved me and her little grandbabies across country, far away from her. We buckled, my mom and I.
But despite that, our love was always sweet and satisfying and, dare I say, “not your grandmother’s mom/daughter relationship.” We were best friends who argued, but by god, we always had each other’s back….and heart and soul.