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Hunting the Elusive Morel

Morel mushrooms were a rare treat in my childhood. Dad searched for them along the Missouri and had the best luck near rotted cottonwood trunks. He showed me how to bathe the fungi in saltwater to remove sand and insects and then sautÈ them with butter and salt. At first I was wary of the morel’s brain-like appearance, but became hooked by its rich, meaty flavor.

Although I enjoyed my dad’s finds, I had never hunted myself until last spring. I did know that hunters are very secretive about their hunting techniques, so I turned to Tony Kellar, a Sioux Falls outdoors enthusiast and author of Camping & Cooking with the Bare Essentials, for advice.

“The best time to find morels is usually when the lilacs start to bloom,” says Kellar, whose tattooed, athletic build reflects an active lifestyle. The season varies throughout the state, but it’s normally late April and early May. The tasty morsels are found on moist forest floors, especially near rivers and lakes. Look for yellow or tan mushrooms with spongy caps, but beware the false morel. It can be poisonous. True morels are hollow throughout, while false morels are solid.

Kellar suggests following an experienced hunter. That may be difficult to arrange, as hunting spots are top secret. But you can be initiated. Kellar introduced his friend Jarett Bies to morel hunting during a kayaking excursion on the Missouri.

“Tony explained the shape and how, like a 3-D painting, once you found one you’d suddenly see more,” says Bies, a writer and avid kayaker from Vermillion. He and Kellar hunted on hands and knees along the edge of the beach, and soon calls of”got one” rose from the brush. Of course, Bies was warned not to reveal the location.”I doubt I could relate to anyone where we were, so the secret is safe,” he says. The morels were rinsed, buttered, and baked right on the sand.”The flavor of these wild treats makes all the subterfuge worth it,” Bies says.

Last May, my husband Jeremy and I went on our own excursion. We searched a shady area west of Yankton, the ground damp with rain. I used a stick to poke around the dead leaves for about an hour with no success. Thoughts of the time Jeremy dragged me along deer hunting popped into my head — a nice hike but nothing to show for our efforts.

“Let’s try this ravine,” Jeremy said, and gracefully descended to the bottom. I slipped on some loose dirt and traveled down on my back. After shaking the dirt and leaves from my hair, I took a few careful steps into the ravine and finally spotted the unmistakable tan fungi.”I found one!” I shouted.

“They’re everywhere!” Jeremy exclaimed.

We picked about 5 pounds of mushrooms that day. As we carried our bounty out of the forest, Jeremy stopped short at the sound of other hikers.

“Shh. Stay here,” he whispered while gesturing behind a tree.”I don’t want them to know about our hunting spot.”

Jeremy and I kept our harvest, but some hunters sell to gourmet or natural grocery stores. Molly Langley, owner of Coop Natural Foods in Sioux Falls, occasionally buys morels for resale. She learned about the culture of secrecy the first time she bought from a morel hunter.”I remember saying, ‘Where did you get them?'” says Langley.”The seller found another corner of the store to look at and wouldn’t tell me.” She purchased the mushrooms.”We packaged them up as we do our other local mushrooms,” says Langley.”They were gone in 12 hours.”

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the March/April 2012 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.


Citrus mushroom pasta

3 tablespoons unsalted butter (can substitute extra virgin olive oil)

3/4 lbs. morel mushrooms

1/4 cup thinly sliced green onions

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

zest of one lemon

1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley

1/4 cup chicken broth

freshly grated Parmesan cheese

pepper to taste

8 ounces whole wheat spaghetti

Morels can be stored in the refrigerator in a brown paper bag, or in a colander at room temperature. The mushrooms begin drying slowly, but will rehydrate when cooked.

Prepare mushrooms by brushing away loose dirt. Then cut each in half lengthwise and soak in salt water for about 20 minutes to remove insects and tiny snails. After soaking, you may wish to rinse each mushroom separately to remove any remaining sand.

To make the sauce, begin melting butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add garlic and onions and cook for about one minute, stirring often. Then add mushrooms and sautÈ for a few minutes until tender.

Decrease heat to low and add salt, lemon juice and parsley. Once pasta is cooked al dente, turn the skillet back to medium heat. Add the pasta to the mushrooms and toss together. Next add chicken broth and pepper to taste. Serve sprinkled with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. (Makes about four servings)

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Molding Ma’amoul



In the November/December issue of South Dakota Magazine, we featured mouthwatering holiday treats from several South Dakota food bloggers. One of my favorites is Sioux Falls restaurateur Sanaa Abourezk. She serves healthy variations on recipes popular in her native Syria and other Middle Eastern countries at Sanaa’s 8th Street Gourmet and shares recipes on her blog, sanaacooks.com.

When I saw her recipe for ma’amoul, a shaped, stuffed cookie made for Christmas, Easter or Eid, I was reminded of a lecture I’d attended at Augustana College earlier this year. Stephen Cusulos is researching Sioux Falls’ Syrian and Lebanese community, which started over one hundred years ago. Though some were Muslim and some were Eastern Orthodox Christians, these immigrants were bound together by the Arabic language and by a common culture. Many were peddlers back in the horse and buggy days, traveling around the region delivering goods to farm families. When automobiles took over, the peddlers set up shop in downtown Sioux Falls, opening up groceries, cafes, candy stores or selling dry goods.

Though Cusulos joked about these immigrants'”gift of gab,” they were surprisingly quiet about their shared culture, at least to the outside world. But it was a different story when they met in each other’s homes to socialize, or in the case of the Muslim immigrants, to worship together. Perhaps they met to make ma’amoul, just as Sanaa’s family did in Syria. Here’s how she describes those gatherings:

My mom used to get together with her friends on a certain day before the Eid to make ma’amoul. One friend would bring the dough, another would bring one kind of stuffing and someone else would bring another kind of stuffing. The rest would bring stories and gossip. The ladies would spend the whole afternoon making the cookies. I can still remember hearing them, talking, laughing and baking.


Ma’amoul

From Sanaa Cooks


Dough

4 cups farina (a type of wheat flour)
1 cups cake flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup warm milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon yeast

Mix farina, cake flour, 1/2 cup of sugar and salt. Add butter and mix well. Dissolve 1 tablespoon of sugar in the warm milk. Add yeast and stir. Let yeast rest for a few minutes, then add to the flour mixture, mixing until the dough is smooth. Add a couple of tablespoons of cold water if needed. Cover and let the dough rest for 1 hour.

Walnut Stuffing

4 cups walnuts
3/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon orange blossom water

Grind the walnuts, then mix with sugar and orange blossom water.

Date Stuffing

4 cups chopped dates
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon orange marmalade

Add dates, butter and marmalade to a food processor and process until the mixture forms a smooth paste.

Assembly

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. To form the ma’amoul, take a small piece of dough. Make a dent in the middle of the dough to form a cup. Spoon about 1 teaspoon of filling into the cup, then gently close the opening with your fingers. Decorate the top of the ma’amoul by pinching the dough with pastry tweezers or pressing the cookie in a ma’amoul mold. Place your hand under the mold and gently strike the mold on the edge of a table to make the cookie fall in your palm.

Place the ma’amoul on a cookie sheet and bake for 30 minutes, or until lightly browned. Allow cookies to cool for one hour, then dust with powdered sugar and store in a tightly closed container. Makes 50 cookies.


Note: Sanaa also has a gluten-free, vegan version of this recipe on her blog.

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∆blekage: A Crummy Dessert



Do you know what’s been keeping me up at night lately? Believe it or not — bread crumbs. No, I haven’t been snacking in bed — my worries are a product of a”waste not, want not” lifestyle. Over the last year, my husband and I have managed to accumulate an indecent amount of dried bread. I’d be ashamed to tell you how much we have. Some of it goes in Mike’s favorite hamburger mixture, some of it gets used in bread pudding, but a few crumbs scattered here and there really don’t put a dent in the problem.

I’d like to ask you all for advice, but I suspect that a bread crumb avalanche is not something most people have to worry about. So instead, I’m turning to my ethnic heritage for a way to chip at the problem.

Up in Viborg, they often serve Êblekage as a dessert for their annual Taste of Denmark dinner. ∆blecake means”apple cake” in Danish, but there’s no cake involved here. This dessert consists of layers of toasted, sweetened bread crumbs, applesauce and a generous dollop of whipped cream. It’s an ideal dessert for frugal people, it’s easy to make and it tastes pretty good, too.


∆blekage

Adapted from Delectably Danish: Recipes and Reflections by Julie Jensen McDonald

2 cups crumbs
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 cup butter
2 1/2 cups applesauce
1 cup whipping cream
2 tablespoons sugar
Red jelly or jam (optional)

Place crumbs, butter and 1 tablespoon sugar in a pan and cook until crumbs are brown. Add a layer of crumbs to the bottom of a glass serving dish, followed by a layer of applesauce. Repeat until you run out of ingredients.

Whip cream together with two tablespoons of sugar and spread it atop the crumb-applesauce concoction. If you’re feeling fancy, dot the top with red jelly or jam.

Refrigerate if you want a soft dessert, or serve immediately if you like your crumbs crunchy.

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Potatoes and Promises



I was talking to someone yesterday about this year’s potato harvest. It must’ve been a good year for spuds — she had more than she knew what to do with. So do we. For some reason, my husband likes to plant piles of potatoes every spring in our garden north of Yankton. I don’t know why — he doesn’t even like potatoes.

Well, the joke was on him. This year, they ALL produced, giving him and the old potato fork both a good workout. I think we could’ve supplied Clark Potato Day with all the spuds they needed last month. Garden City potato farmers would be jealous of our bountiful harvest. We’ve given away buckets and buckets, eaten mounds of new potatoes, French fries and home fries, and I think there’s more lurking out in the field waiting to be unearthed.

We gave my father, Lewis Johnson, a sackful so he could recreate a taste from his boyhood near Volin. His Grandma Johnson had a delicious method for making Swedish creamed dilled potatoes. She wasn’t a recipe user, but Dad had found a similar recipe in one of his Swedish cookbooks that he was going to get to me right away. Just as soon as he got home. Honest.

Ja, sure, Dad. Three months and several promises later, no recipe. I figured I’d have to wait until he was dead and gone — perhaps bury him in a potato mound as revenge — then go through his recipes. If father’s anything like daughter, the dirtiest, messiest, stickiest pages would mark the most beloved recipes.

I decided to give Lewie one last chance. For once, it worked. It only took one more phone call to get a recipe to share with you this week. Dad says,”They’re just the way I remembered them growing up.” He says they’d be good with dried beef or rullep¯lse. (I’ll explain what that is some other day.)

If you’re feeling decadent, make dilled potatoes the way my great-grandmother would have — use all cream instead of a cream and milk mixture.”I’m sure Grandma never read the damn recipe — she probably just dumped all cream in because it was easier,” he says.


Creamed Dilled Potatoes

From Splendid Swedish Recipes

10 medium potatoes
2 teaspoons butter
1 1/2 cups of half and half, or use half cream and half milk
1 1 /2 teaspoons salt
1/3 cup finely chopped dill

Peel the potatoes and dice into small cubes. Melt the butter in a pan. Briefly sautÈ the potatoes. Pour half and half or milk/cream mixture over the potatoes and add salt. Cover and cook over low heat until potatoes are soft. Add dill and serve. Serves 3-4


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A Delicious Contest

The Greater Midwest Foodways Heirloom Recipes Contest was held last Sunday at the Woman’s Expo building at the South Dakota State Fair. Four women competed in this year’s event — all brought delicious food with deep roots in their family histories. (The recipes and stories will be posted at greatermidwestfoodways.com at a later date.)

There was also a bonus recipe –well-creased instructions for making suet pudding, provided by Avis Hardie of Clear Lake. Her grandmother, Susan Jenvey Clarke Tranter, brought it to South Dakota when she emigrated from England to Hand County in 1908. Suet is the hard white fat around the kidneys and loins of cattle and other animals, and was once a common ingredient in steamed puddings.

Suet Pudding

2/3 cup of suet — chopped fine
1 cup of molasses (Tranter instructed,”I use syrup. 1/2 cup of molasses would be plenty by using more milk and sugar. Honey would be about the same sweetness as syrup. Honey I believe 3/4 of a cup.”)
1 cup of sweet milk
1 cup of raisins
1/2 cup sugar
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon soda
1 teaspoon nutmeg or other spice

Mix as written. Boil or steam 3 hrs. Half of this recipe makes a good pudding. Tranter wrote,”You know these little brown pudding pans I have. I use one of those for half the recipe.”

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Savoring the Story


I wish I’d carried pencil and paper with me when I was growing up. I spent a fair amount of time with my elders over the years, and there are so many things that I thought would be forever cemented in my memory that have slipped away, perhaps for good. It makes me sad to think about all the stories entrusted to me over the years that are now lost. I should’ve taken better notes. Heck, ANY notes would’ve made a difference.

Then there are the half-remembered tidbits stuck in my head that no one else can verify. My grandparents told me about some foods their parents made back in the 1930s — malt leader beer, a non-alcoholic brew, and buttermilk jam. Perhaps both were products of hard times. Buttermilk was something Great-Grandma Mark had in abundance on her farm near Viborg, and a homemade non-alcoholic beer would have quenched Great-Grandpa Skoven’s thirst in those hot, dusty days of Prohibition. But I don’t have recipes, and I haven’t had any luck finding any. They weren’t deemed important enough to pass down.

And then there’s the flip side. Have you ever paged through an old community cookbook and found a recipe that stopped you in your tracks? I have. The recipe giver may be credited, if you’re lucky, but you don’t know why this particular food was so important that they wanted to share it with their community. Was it traditional in their family, picked up on a trip or clipped out of a newspaper? Was it an everyday meal or fancy food that was only brought out for company? Were they famous or infamous for making this dish? You can recreate it if you want to, but you’ll never know why it mattered to them.

That’s why I’m excited to travel to the South Dakota State Fair this Sunday. I’ll be helping Catherine Lambrecht of the Greater Midwest Foodways Alliance judge the Heirloom Recipes Contest. Participants will bring a favorite homemade family recipe that dates before 1950, along with the story behind it. We’ll get to sample South Dakota tastes of years ago and place them in the context of their times.

Pre-registration is over, but if you have a recipe you’d like to share, take a look at the contest rules and please join us on Sept. 1 at 11:30 am in the Women’s Building. Last year’s entries were dessert-heavy, but savory recipes are very welcome too.




When I first read this recipe in an old Yankton cookbook from 1946, I was a little taken aback.”You call that a dessert?” I thought. My husband suspected the recipe submitter, the pastor’s wife, was having a little laugh at her congregation’s expense. The truth probably relates to the times. Sugar was rationed from May 1942 to June 1947 because of World War II, so many housewives turned to marshmallows as a substitute.

While this recipe was by no means the weirdest thing I’ve ever found in an old community cookbook (the Jello salad section is always good for oddities), it is one of the few I’m actually willing to try. As I sample it, I’ll wonder what Mrs. Wicks’ name actually was, why this recipe was significant enough for her to put her name to, and if it was still popular with her family after the wartime restrictions were lifted. If you’re a Wicks descendant (or if you’ve got recipes for malt leader beer or buttermilk jam), please leave a comment below.

Marshmallow Dessert

Submitted by Mrs. T. G. Wicks
Trinity Lutheran Cook Book, 3rd edition, printed August 1946

24 marshmallows
1 cup strong coffee — cool
1 cup whipping cream
Nuts to flavor

Whip coffee and marshmallows. Fold in whipped cream. Leave in refrigerator until ready to serve. Serve in sherbet glasses.

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Hard-won Walnut Cookies

Black walnuts add rich flavor to baked goods, but harvesting and shelling the nuts can be a real challenge.

Try cracking your black walnuts with a hammer and you’ll likely get bruised fingers and a new respect for squirrels. The little furry-tailed creatures make the laborious task of shelling black walnuts look simple. Since humans aren’t equipped with a squirrel’s incisors, using a nutcracker is probably the best option. Neighbors may suggest other nut-cracking methods — like crushing the nuts in a vise or splitting them with an axe or putting them in a gunny sack and driving over them. All of the aforementioned pose safety issues, since the nuts and shells can become airborne.

A nutcracker worthy of cracking a black walnut isn’t any ordinary nutcracker. And it certainly doesn’t look like the one you see dancing in the ballet. A real nutcracker has a long lever handle that crushes the nut between two metal plungers.”You need special equipment,” said April Borders, Yankton County Extension Agent, when we spoke with her in 2007.”The nutcracker for black walnuts looks almost like a pop can crusher.”

Rock-hard shells aren’t the only drawback to black walnuts; juice from the hull surrounding the shell will stain. Native Americans and pioneers used it to make dye, and even today several recipes for the dye can be found on the Internet. Unless you don’t mind stained hands and fingers, Borders recommended wearing gloves when working with black walnuts. Protecting clothing, tools and work surfaces is a good idea, too.

Black walnuts should be hulled before storage to retain the color and flavor of the nutmeat. It’s best to throw the hull scraps in the trash. The hulls, as well as the roots, leaves and bark of the black walnut tree contain juglone, a chemical that inhibits the growth of many vegetables, fruits, landscape plants and flowers.”When you look under a black walnut tree, there’s nothing growing under it, even grass has a hard time,” Borders said.”It’s mother nature’s way of protecting the plant.”

In order to beat the squirrels, look for black walnuts to ripen from August to September.”Harvest will depend on the weather,” Borders said.”Watch for the husks to change color, then use your thumb to do a dent test similar to what you would do with squash.” It’s best to pull the nuts off the tree, according to Borders. Those too high to reach will come down with the frost.

Once you’ve collected the nuts, hulled them and purchased a heavy-duty nutcracker, you’re probably in a hurry to shell. But wait a while — they should cure for two weeks or more. That allows the flavor to develop and prepares them for storage. It also gives you time to ask around for recipes.

Grace Linn of Brookings shared this recipe with us. She first made these cookies with black walnuts she brought home from a trip in Wisconsin when she didn’t realize the nuts grew in South Dakota.


Black Walnut Raisin Cookies

1 cup raisins
1/2 cup water
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1/2 teaspoon vanilla or black walnut flavoring
2 eggs
2 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice
1/3 cup black walnuts

Mix and cook the raisins and water for a few minutes. Drain and reserve 1/4 cup liquid. Return liquid to raisins and add 1/2 teaspoon baking soda. Set aside to cool.

Cream sugar and shortening. Add eggs and flavoring then beat thoroughly. Sift together flour, baking powder, salt, nutmeg and allspice. Mix flour mixture with sugar and shortening. Fold in raisin mixture and black walnuts. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes or until done.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the September/October 2007 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.

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Cream Can Cooking

While cookout fans fantasize about the latest in stainless steel grills and wood-fired smokers, a pair of Armour men discovered the secret to a party lies in a vintage cream can. Larry Wilson and Marty Bigge are the kings of cream can cooking in Douglas County. Using just a 10-gallon can and the burner for a turkey fryer, the men can turn a mixture of sausage and vegetables into a hearty meal that feeds 30.

“If you tell somebody you’re ‘having cream can,’ they’re over — right away,” Bigge said, as a crowd gathered one late summer evening to enjoy the last of the season’s fresh sweet corn.”It’s the best thing they ever ate.”

Cream canning is done by filling the 10-gallon can with fresh vegetables including sweet corn and smoked sausage. Water is added and the food is cooked atop an open flame. It has other benefits, in addition to being a taste-tempting meal.”It’s all good for you because it’s all steamed,” Wilson said. He and Bigge host cream can suppers to celebrate everything from a NASCAR race to class reunions or company picnics.

Bigge says that once someone has tasted cream can cooking, the next step is inevitable.”They want cream cans,” he said. Finding a vintage can requires some searching. Wilson acquired his from a brother-in-law, while Bigge purchased his when the local produce company went out of business.

“I think the best place to find a cream can is in a coffee shop, through conversation,” Wilson says. Estate auctions, flea markets and antique stores are also good places to search for cream cans.

Wilson and Bigge said the most important quality for a can is that it has no holes, so it holds water.”And you don’t want a real rusty one,” Bigge added.

While fresh sweet corn is the cornerstone of a good cream can cookout, Wilson and Bigge said they have hosted the suppers throughout the year.”We’ve done it in the winter time, but you’ve got to freeze the corn [during the summer],” Wilson said, admitting that frozen corn does not taste as good as fresh.

The two chefs also have a unique serving dish — a wooden trough lined with tinfoil to hold the steaming hot food from the cream can.”I heard some old-timers talk about how they used to do it,” Wilson said of the trough, which has a one and one-half inch slope and a hole to drain the cooking liquid.


Cream Can Supper

All you need to get started on your own cream can supper is a 10-gallon can and the burner mechanism for a turkey fryer. The vegetables and meat can be customized to please the crowd you’re feeding. Wilson and Bigge usually select an assortment of hearty vegetables and homemade sausage from the meat locker in Delmont. Bratwurst and chicken are also popular choices of experienced cream can cooks. The meal is cooked outdoors since the propane burner has an open flame.

30 ears of fresh sweet corn (or ears that were fresh-frozen during the summer)
30 potatoes, whole
4 large yellow onions, quartered
20 carrots, cut into large pieces
2 heads cabbage, cut into wedges
Any other vegetables such as cauliflower, green pepper or broccoli
8 rings sausage
Water to cover corn
Salt and pepper to taste

Start packing the cream can by standing the ears of corn on end in the bottom of the can. Add water to cover the corn. Some cream can cooks add a bottle or two of beer to the cooking liquid for extra flavor. Salt and pepper may be added to taste; however, if you’re using smoked sausage, the vegetables will absorb the flavor and not a lot of additional seasoning is necessary. Next, layer potatoes, onions, cabbage and other veggies on top of the corn. Wilson and Bigge use mesh bags like those found in the produce department of most grocery stores for the smaller vegetables to ease removal from the can, but tying the vegetables in cheesecloth will also work. Place sausage on top of vegetables, cover the can and light the burner. Total cooking time ranges from 45 minutes to an hour once the water boils and steam starts rising through the can. You will want to check the can after the food has steamed for about 30 minutes to ensure that it does not over-cook.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the May/June 2006 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.

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Holiday Recipe: Prairie Sage Dressing

Sagebrush grows wild in South Dakota. Often farmers have to clean it off the prairie to make room for their crops. But sagebrush survives to add great flavor to many foods. My favorite use is in a recipe for turkey dressing at Thanksgiving; it’s a flavor you won’t soon forget.

Even better yet, it can be stuffed inside a wild prairie chicken, grouse, sage hen or pheasant, all birds native to South Dakota. My brothers often brought in some of these wild birds for our family to enjoy.

As kids, my sisters and I went out on the prairie and stripped the leaves off the branches of the sagebrush plants. We took them to the house, spread them out on newspapers to dry for about a week, and then placed the dried leaves in a jar Mama kept in the pantry to add to her sage dressing for the holidays. If you’ve ever eaten dressing with the delectable flavor of wild sage, you will never buy the store brand again.

Celery and onions, other ingredients in the stuffing, also grow on the prairie but they are not quite as easy to find as sage. We only found those in the spring and would stop to pick them on the way home from school.

We collected wild chokecherries, buffalo berries and plums every summer for the most mouth-watering jams and jellies. They have flavors you can’t find elsewhere.

My family also enjoyed several wild vegetables during the Depression. Mama made a wilted salad using fresh young dandelion leaves. She fried a couple slices of bacon until crisp, crumbled them, added salt, pepper and a splash of vinegar and poured the hot liquid over the dandelion leaves. We also used lambs quarter, pigweed or purple sour dock as a substitute for spinach. When the plants come up in the spring, the tender leaves make wonderful hot greens for dinner. Just put them in boiling water for about five minutes, drain, add a splash of vinegar and garnish with hard-boiled eggs. The pioneers in South Dakota often made do with things that already existed on the prairie.


Emma’s Wild Sage Stuffing

6 cups dried and cubed English muffin bread
3 eggs
Turkey giblets (boiled until tender and chopped)
Broth from the giblets to soften bread cubes
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 cup dried, crushed sage leaves
1/2 cup chopped onions
1/3 cup chopped celery, including some of the leaves
1 apple, peeled and chopped

Mix all ingredients together and stuff into the cavity of the turkey. Roast for 20 minutes per pound in a 325 degree oven.

Editor’s Note: Emma Willey learned about finding food on the prairie while growing up on her family’s homestead near Zeona in Perkins County. After serving in the Women’s Army Corps in World War II, she and her husband Orman settled in Rapid City, where they had three children. Willey lived in Oregon for several years and passed away in West Virginia just before Thanksgiving in 2014. This story is revised from the November/December 2010 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Kneading Tradition

Rediscovering bread 4,500 miles from home

Visiting my German relatives was a whirlwind of touring castles, churches and farms along the Westphalian countryside. While I can’t remember the names of the castles or when the churches were built, I’ll never forget my cousins’ hospitality and the meals we shared. In retrospect, sightseeing was merely a pleasant way of passing time in between the real purpose of my trip: long meals and conversations at the kitchen table.

Karl-Heinz offers this advice for first time bread bakers: be patient. “You will have to work the dough over and over and you need time for the dough to rise. Look closely at the recipe and maybe the second time you try you will have a good bread.”

We breakfasted on delicious seeded bread with marmalade and Gouda cheese made in the neighboring Netherlands. For lunch we would have a perfectly crusted whole wheat bread dipped in steaming hot soup. Dinner might be a feast of beef and red cabbage served with yet another homemade bread.

Bread wasn’t something I liked back home. I was born in the country that gave the world the Atkins diet. Throughout my childhood, bread came one way — spongy, white, and perfectly sliced from the grocery store. In my 20s I learned from the media and low-carb diet crazes that bread was not a healthy foundation for any meal.

But then I visited Germany. On our first morning together, I sat down with my relatives to a meal of dark brown colored bread dotted with sunflower seeds. Because I knew it was laden with carbs I eyed it warily, but ate it like a dutiful guest. It didn’t taste unhealthy. It was nourishing and filling.

My distant cousin, Karl-Heinz, is retired and that leaves time for his bread-making. Our families became acquainted when Ulrike, his daughter, was searching online for Hunhoffs in America and came across our South Dakota Magazine website. She e-mailed us, reuniting the Hunhoffs on both sides of the Atlantic after generations of separation.

While we do have more than factory-baked white bread available in the United States, homemade, whole wheat breads are not a diet staple as they are in Germany, where families and neighbors exchange bread recipes and pass recipes from generation to generation. Today, the sharing is intercontinental: Karl-Heinz has began emailing me recipes, some centuries old. Here’s one of his recipes that is particularly good and fun to make.


Karl-Heinz’s German Seeded Bread

German bread is so flavorful, most don’t need butter, cheese or any topping at all.

4 cups and 2 2/3 tablespoons whole wheat flour
1 standard packet, dry active yeast
1/2 teaspoon sugar
400 mL water at room temperature
1 teaspoon salt
150 mL plain yogurt
5 1/2 tablespoons flax seed
5 1/2 tablespoons sunflower seeds
5 1/2 tablespoons sesame seeds

1. Put the flour in a bowl. In the middle of the flour make a hollow and inside the hollow place the yeast, sugar and 200 mL water. Stir the ingredients carefully with a fork and let the mixture rest for 10 minutes.

2. Mix in salt, yogurt, the three types of seeds and the other 200 mL water. Knead the dough for 5 — 7 minutes by hand on a lightly floured surface.

3. Let the dough rise in a warm place until it doubles in size — approximately one hour.

4. Knead the dough once more on a lightly floured surface for 5 — 7 minutes. Divide the dough equally into two buttered bread pans and score the top with a knife. Let the dough rise once more in a warm place until it doubles in size — approximately one hour.

5. Bake for 15 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit followed by 45 minutes at 390 degrees Fahrenheit. (I covered the bread with tin foil after the first 15 minutes because it was already crusty).

6. Let the bread cool to room temperature before slicing.

EDITOR’S NOTE — This story is revised from the Jan/Feb 2011 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order this back issue or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.