A return to simpler things

The economy's in the dumps, Christmas is going to be scaled way back this year and now the budget shopaholic's paradise - Value City - is going under.

But amid this dreary state of affairs came a whisper of sensibility, even hope, and it fit in my daughter's backpack. For a little while at least the Hecht household has a reminder that people can make do, will make do and have always found a way to make do.

It's not the answer to the economy, but one cheerful red and blue book, "The Little House Cookbook: Frontier Foods from Laura Ingalls Wilder's Classic Stories," has the Hecht household rethinking budgets, meals and what really matters.

Abby greeted me this evening with news of her discovery in the school library. Already a fan of the "Little House" books (I'd saved my precious collection from childhood and have shared them with her), she was thrilled to spy the 1979 book and immediately checked it out. Her first request as I set down my briefcase: "Mommy, can we make Green Pumpkin Pie tonight?"

And then they flooded back to me - memories of Laura Ingalls books devoured on hot summer afternoons, and the fabulous descriptions of early American foods captured from the writer's keen memory. As a child of the '70s, Laura Ingalls was my heroine, and the "Little House on the Prairie" series boosted my fascination. (Mom and Dad even took me on a pilgrimage to her De Smet, S.D., home, but that's another blog or column.)

After supper, Abby and I settled onto the couch by the fireplace and perused the pages of "The Little House Cookbook." 

"Let's read the recipes and pick out some to make," she chirped, her 8-year-old mind already planning a menu that would include Green Pumpkin Pie for dessert. 

And so we read about Raw Turnip Snacks ("Were  they like early potato chips?" Abby wondered), Cottage Cheese Balls (the jury's still out on that one), Long Winter Bread, Stewed Jack Rabbit and Dumplings, and Fried Cornmeal Mush. And these are just some of the tamer pioneer recipes! We marveled at the ingredients, read featured snippets from the Laura Ingalls book series and scanned Garth Williams' accompanying illustrations. She was just as fascinated with the humble-but-hearty foods as I was at her age.

Abby's starting to have an appreciation for the food we eat today. She knows meat simply doesn't come from a foam tray shrink-wrapped in plastic, that milk doesn't start off in a carton and that eggs don't magically arrive in a plastic container. And she knows our forefathers were hard working - and grateful - for the food that graced their tables. They did it with little money in their pockets, stretching every dollar  and sheer will to do whatever necessary to feed themselves and their families.

I thought it fitting that this book made its way to our home tonight as news of the shrinking economy settles over Hampton Roads. One way or another, all of us are going to be affected - whether it's through an aircraft carrier that may be reassigned to Mayport, yet another small or large business shutting down, or a workplace downsizing. It's times like this, when the economy isn't fat, that we should remember our country's simple roots. That we can find a way to get by, and that eventually the cloud of financial gloom with lift.

My family's guide through this dark time might just be a child's little red recipe book. Even if we don't cook up Blackbird Pie and Bean Porridge, it'll still serve us a little hope. 

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