Tomorrow brings the feast of Saint Patrick, celebrated by many of Irish origins and those who have adopted the Irish custom of a corned beef and cabbage dinner. I have been to Ireland several times and have partaken of many meals in pubs, carveries and restaurants. I never saw corned beef and cabbage on the menu. Must be a U.S. of A. thing. I do remember my first dinner in Ireland, in Doolin, bacon and cabbage. Wonderful meal, the bacon being more like the Canadian style bacon, ham really, washed down with a genuine Guinness. Definitely pork and not beef. And a potatoes and cabbage combo was everywhere, but no corned beef. In fact, I always thought it was a Jewish deli thing.
I have been invited by a very good friend to a corned beef and cabbage dinner tonight. So, yesterday evening, I thought I would make something to complement the Irish tea that I am gifting to my hostess. I thought, Welsh Cakes, really cookies. Not Irish of course, but still Celtic, I think. The recipe looked quite simple.
Perhaps I should not have attempted anything so late in the day. Let's just say that it was a fail that has been relegated to my freezer for my own consumption when I am desperate. Maybe aging will improve them.
So, today I was up early and in the kitchen, mixing up my no fail cake. Not just any cake, but one my in laws call the Phelps cake. A cake that my mother always used to bake. I once asked my dad's sister, Aunt Nancy, about where the recipe came from and she said that her mother used to make it. So, maybe it's really a Beatty cake or even a Flanagan cake. Anyway, I like to think that it in fact may have Irish origins and so, is most appropriate to go with the maybe not so Irish corned beef dinner.
Something different I did today was to actually bake the cake at the proper temperature of 325 degrees Fahrenheit. I had always heard that ovens can vary by as much as 25 degrees, and darn if my oven wasn't in the plus range. 325 was actually 350! So, I tinkered with the setting, giving thanks that I had digital controls. 315 gave me my 325, or fairly close. Best looking cake to come out of my oven in a very long time! My recommendation, check your ovens with a simple little oven thermometer.
Years ago, my husband Steve gave me a Kitchen Aid mixer for Christmas. The heavy one. Much better than a vacuum cleaner. It has faithfully served me, whipping up cakes and frosting and kneading my popular Parkerhouse rolls that are always requested for holiday dinners. Long ago, I bought the meat grinder attachment and one day, I may attempt to make my own sausage, if I can find it. Meanwhile, I will continue the upper body work so I will never lose the power to lift the mixer from its cabinet. Second recommendation of the day, consider getting one if you haven't one already.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
"To all the days, here and after,
May they be filled with fond memories, happiness and laughter."
Slainte Mhaith!
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Monday, March 6, 2017
The Name Game
By now, my followers have probably have deduced that I dabble a bit in genealogy.
I began during the early years of the World Wide Web, when there was just a fraction of today's information available on the internet.
Trips were made to the Maryland Historical Society in Baltimore, the Hall of Records in Annapolis, the Baltimore County Historical Society in Cockeysville, and a couple of area LDS family research centers. Visiting the old buildings that housed some of these records was an added highlight.
In those early days, I learned a lot about Soundex, using microfilm readers and tackling the challenge of deciphering old handwriting.
Names back then, proved to be quite a challenge. I learned to never be surprised by the spelling of some of the old family surnames. The Irish O' was dropped, e's and a's transposed, letters added, letters left off, and so on. Sometimes, it was just what the census taker or immigrant official may have heard in trying to understand what was being said. Just as the ancestral newly immigrant families came to build new lives, so were some of their names reborn into a new life.
My ancestor Beatty, or Beattie/Baty/Bady/Betty, married a Demoss, which may harken back to the French then Dutch Dumas, (perhaps another dose of royal blood - was he really a comte?).
In the Beatty line, there were plenty Williams and James' and one had to exercise much care in keeping them in their proper place.
Flanagan could have more n's, or a vowel switched to i or e.
And Phelps could appear as the phonetic Felps or even Phillips, a totally different name.
And it wasn't just the last names. First names had their own issues!
I was at quite an advanced age (as a child!) when I learned that my father had another name. Of, course, he was Dad or Daddy to me. I had always heard him called Jesse and was surprised to learn that he was a Patrick, too.
The story goes that my great grandmother wanted him baptized Jesse but the priest said no, he had to have a saint's name, even though Jesse is a good biblical name.
And, that he was supposedly named after a good friend of Nanny Weber.
Jesse Boudinot does flow off the tongue quite smoothly although Patrick Boudinot is not without its own charm.
Rarely, did I hear him called by Patrick though once, there was a phone call asking for Pat that sent me into a dither. Was it for my dad or my sister, Patricia, known as Trish and that someone didn't know she wasn't a Pat? And while we are talking about my sister, it's quite obvious Patricia Lee is named after our father. My other sister is Catherine Maureen, very close to our mother's Irene Catherine. And then there is me, Barbara Susan and I don't know who I am named after.
Dad wasn't the only one of his family to have another name.
Leonard Passano carried on another fine family name but his moniker was Lolly, maybe so as not to be confused with his father, Leonard Passano known as Len. Uncle Lolly could wiggle his ears.
A distinguished Hugh Fidelis was transformed into Oots or Uncle Ootsie. Did someone in the family know Latin?
Sweet Aunt Sis wins most original first name, Felixena, proudly named after her McCurley great grandmother. It is easy to see why it was shortened to Sis as the name may have been a challenge for her young siblings.
Aunt Nancy was really Ann Rita, sharing not just the names her mother Ann and Ann's sister, Rita. She also carried on the legacy of beautiful women in the family.
Dad's two remaining brothers, William Calhoun and Harry Cornelius, also shared names of their ancestors but some how escaped the family's unusual naming habit.
William became a normal Bill, but a Bill with his own hill and Harry stayed Harry, unlike the first of that name who came into to the world as Adam Cornelius and left it as a Harry.
I wonder what other name gems will be uncovered as I dabble among the ancestral roots?
I began during the early years of the World Wide Web, when there was just a fraction of today's information available on the internet.
Trips were made to the Maryland Historical Society in Baltimore, the Hall of Records in Annapolis, the Baltimore County Historical Society in Cockeysville, and a couple of area LDS family research centers. Visiting the old buildings that housed some of these records was an added highlight.
In those early days, I learned a lot about Soundex, using microfilm readers and tackling the challenge of deciphering old handwriting.
Names back then, proved to be quite a challenge. I learned to never be surprised by the spelling of some of the old family surnames. The Irish O' was dropped, e's and a's transposed, letters added, letters left off, and so on. Sometimes, it was just what the census taker or immigrant official may have heard in trying to understand what was being said. Just as the ancestral newly immigrant families came to build new lives, so were some of their names reborn into a new life.
My ancestor Beatty, or Beattie/Baty/Bady/Betty, married a Demoss, which may harken back to the French then Dutch Dumas, (perhaps another dose of royal blood - was he really a comte?).
In the Beatty line, there were plenty Williams and James' and one had to exercise much care in keeping them in their proper place.
Flanagan could have more n's, or a vowel switched to i or e.
And Phelps could appear as the phonetic Felps or even Phillips, a totally different name.
And it wasn't just the last names. First names had their own issues!
I was at quite an advanced age (as a child!) when I learned that my father had another name. Of, course, he was Dad or Daddy to me. I had always heard him called Jesse and was surprised to learn that he was a Patrick, too.
The story goes that my great grandmother wanted him baptized Jesse but the priest said no, he had to have a saint's name, even though Jesse is a good biblical name.
And, that he was supposedly named after a good friend of Nanny Weber.
Jesse Boudinot does flow off the tongue quite smoothly although Patrick Boudinot is not without its own charm.
Rarely, did I hear him called by Patrick though once, there was a phone call asking for Pat that sent me into a dither. Was it for my dad or my sister, Patricia, known as Trish and that someone didn't know she wasn't a Pat? And while we are talking about my sister, it's quite obvious Patricia Lee is named after our father. My other sister is Catherine Maureen, very close to our mother's Irene Catherine. And then there is me, Barbara Susan and I don't know who I am named after.
Dad wasn't the only one of his family to have another name.
Leonard Passano carried on another fine family name but his moniker was Lolly, maybe so as not to be confused with his father, Leonard Passano known as Len. Uncle Lolly could wiggle his ears.
A distinguished Hugh Fidelis was transformed into Oots or Uncle Ootsie. Did someone in the family know Latin?
Sweet Aunt Sis wins most original first name, Felixena, proudly named after her McCurley great grandmother. It is easy to see why it was shortened to Sis as the name may have been a challenge for her young siblings.
Aunt Nancy was really Ann Rita, sharing not just the names her mother Ann and Ann's sister, Rita. She also carried on the legacy of beautiful women in the family.
Dad's two remaining brothers, William Calhoun and Harry Cornelius, also shared names of their ancestors but some how escaped the family's unusual naming habit.
William became a normal Bill, but a Bill with his own hill and Harry stayed Harry, unlike the first of that name who came into to the world as Adam Cornelius and left it as a Harry.
I wonder what other name gems will be uncovered as I dabble among the ancestral roots?
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