IT'S NOT A DASQUOISE

This article below was published last year.  I am reprinting it because recently, I had an interesting encounter with one of the people featured in the article:

                              SACRED FAMILY RECIPES

Last week Les baked Apple Cake, which is one of our family's favorite desserts and is from a 

 

handwritten recipe from our mother.  It is delicious and I shared the cake with several people, one of whom commented, "You probably don't share your family recipes."  I thought, "Why would I NOT want to share a recipe?", but I was not surprised by the comment because I have known quite a number of people who have stated that they would not share recipes.

So, what is it with people and what I derisively call their "sacred family recipes"?  It's not as if they hold a patent.  Do they think people are actually vying to acquire the recipes?  I always laugh inwardly and think to myself, "Hell, if I actually wanted it, I could probably find it on the internet!"

One very irritating and boastful acquaintance brought her "secret recipe" bread pudding to an after-funeral carry-in dinner.  She began telling an elaborate story about the closely-guarded recipe and how it had been handed down generation-to-generation and had been made famous by her family's former restaurant and how she had been sworn to secrecy and could only share the recipe with her first-born child.   I thought it was neither the time nor the place to be vaunting about one's bread pudding, but also believe that a sense of propriety is lost on braggarts.

After her trying to force the bread pudding on me, I finally tasted it and that was followed by her asking several questions such as, "Can you believe how good this is?" and "Isn't this the best you've ever tasted?"  I refrained from saying, "It's just freaking bread pudding and not a dasquoise!" but I instead replied, "I'm sorry, but I like my mother's bread pudding much more."  She was obviously shocked and said, "Everybody has to say their mother's stuff is better."  I laughed and said, "Yes, that's exactly what YOU are saying!"  

Although I had turned and walked away from her, she persisted and said that many people had "begged" for the recipe.  I was weary of her gasconade and said, "I notice that nobody here is asking for it."

At a Christmas gathering last year, one woman was telling that her mother was a "Clay" and her popcorn ball recipe came "directly from Henry Clay".    After a lengthy discourse about the popcorn balls, she stated that she was not allowed to share the recipe.  I restrained myself from laughing but could not help noticing that nobody had even asked for the recipe.  

Later, the woman revealed that she was a descendant of Charlemagne.  I asked, "Do you have any recipes from Charles Martel?"

OK, I admit that was a bit of showing-off by me with the Charles Martel reference, and it was obvious that she did not understand the reference as she asked, "What does that mean?"  I answered, "Oh, Charles Martel was Charlemagne's grandfather;  you know, the Battle of Tours and kicking the Moors out of Europe and changing the course of history."  

Obviously still not grasping that I was making fun of her supposed royal heritage, she asked, "Are you a descendant too?"  I answered, "No, I'm descended from Irish peasants;  they didn't have any recipes as they were dying from not having potatoes."  Les and Gerald have warned me about using sarcasm on those who don't "get" it.

I find it interesting that people want to believe that they are descended from royalty.  Of course Irish descendants are just as pretentious as we think we are all descended from King Brian Boru.