Cinnamon Jumbles

Cinnamon Jumbles.

That was the name of the first recipe I ever made.  It produced soft, cake-y vanilla cookies with a cinnamon & sugar crust.  Simple cookies.  Simple preparation.  But significant in my life.

Why?  Because that first baking experience, at about age 7, began a life long passion for preparing and eating food.  And more importantly, those Cinnamon Jumbles taught me how food can cement and deepen relationships.

You see, my Grandma taught me how to make those cookies.  Her name was Rebecca Helena Fisher--my mom's mom.  Grandma was a thin, gentle, and feminine woman.  Everything about her was kind--her soft voice, her attentiveness, her laugh.  Her hands were soft, yet skilled.  She was an excellent seamstress and a good cook.  A hard worker who partially raised 3 children by herself in an era when single moms were unheard of.  She loved life, loved people, loved pretty things, and loved to travel.

And she loved me.

I loved her back.  It was easy to do.

It's been almost 20 years since Grandma left the earth.  I think of her from time to time, and when I do, the strongest memory is that of her lovingly teaching me to make Cinnamon Jumbles.  That was our thing.  Our bonding activity.  We enjoyed the activity, and we enjoyed each other in the midst of it.

To me, food is relational.  It beckons families to spend an hour or two together.  It summons girlfriends to dump their hearts onto a table along with some tea and cake.  It calls generations to use their hands in common effort to produce a result that will not only gladden, but also nourish.  It sings to the younger as the older teach lessons and traditions. 

Today, with my 3 year old daughter on a stool beside me, I followed a recipe.  It wasn't Cinnamon Jumbles, for that recipe has been unfortunately lost.  (Plus, my tastes have refined over the years....Would I even like them today?)    It was angel food cupcakes with strawberry buttercream frosting.  Matching aprons were worn.  Powdered sugar flew.  Beaters were licked.  Lessons were taught.

And love was deepened.

Thank you, Rebecca Helena Fisher--Grandma--for Cinnamon Jumbles, and all they have come to mean to me.