Memories of a School Cookbook 1976

In 1976, so many things happened in my child-life. Some sad, some sweet, but definitely a year to remember. It was the year that my great great aunt and uncle's house burned to the ground, The morning of January 1st, we looked out over the ridge and saw the black smoke boiling up over the winter tree tops, and knew tragedy had struck our family. Fortunately, both my elderly aunt and uncle were saved from the fire, but sadly there ancient log home was completely gone.
You may be asking what does such a story have to do with the title of this article. You see, it was the worst thing that could have happened, short of loosing them to the fire. They lost everything. I believe this is why saving recipes means so
much to me. Recipes are as much a part of our family history as heirloom possessions or

photographs, so when a fire takes everything from you, just having that one old recipe, handed down from mother to daughter or aunt to niece, can bring one small comfort to those who are hurting. 
1976 was also the year that our school put together a charity activity to raise extra funds. My cousin Sherry, now passed, was on the student committee. All the women in the family bought the cookbooks to help out with the school fund raiser. My mother tucked her copy away and never really read through it. Years passed and the cookbook forgotten, when tragedy struck again. My parents house also burned to the ground taking most of their possessions. Somehow through the smoke and flames, after the firemen were gone and the water had soaked anything that remained, from beneath the smoldering rubble, that little cookbook was found. It had survived somehow. Yes, it was damaged and coming apart. It's pages were tinged with soot and it smelled of smoke, but when my mother asked if I wanted it, Yes, I wanted it.

 That was more than a few years ago, and I had placed the book in a plastic zipper bag to keep it all together. Last week I came across the little book hiding on a low shelf in my office and I couldn't resist looking through the pages with their darkened edges and broken comb binding. A strange thing happened to me that day. I had found my childhood, if only a small sliver of it, in that tattered cookbook.
I opened to a random page and there was my fourth grade teacher and her Christmas cookies. Every other page was a name long forgotten, but somehow I could remember their faces. I hadn't thought of these people in years. I began tagging recipes with stripes of sticky note paper and took my time with each page. It was a wonderful experience and one that was needed at the moment. I also found a pleasant surprise. There among the pages I discovered my father's recipe for Swiss Steak, his signature dish. When my dad passed over ten years ago, I regretted not asking for that recipe. I'm so glad I found it all these years later. I feel a deep connection to him, and I feel a sense of comfort knowing that I can pass his recipe to my own kids. It's a way of keeping his memory with us in some  small way.

Dad's Swiss Steak

2 pounds cube steak

1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
3 Tablespoons vegetable oil
1 pound can stewed tomatoes
2 (6 oz) cans boiled sliced mushrooms

Mix flour and pepper in a small bowl and coat meat thoroughly. Heat oil in a dutch oven over moderate heat. (about 250 degrees). Add meat and brown on both sides. Add tomatoes and mushrooms, and simmer, covered, over low heat, (about 200 degrees),  until meat is fork tender. Serves 4.