Chocolate Peanut Butter Toffee Icebox Cake
Before the refrigerator came along, folks had to use Ice Boxes to keep things cold. So obviously folks made all kinds of recipes that had to be stored in the Ice Box - and the names of the recipes usually reflected the fact that they were meant to be kept cold - in the Ice Box. And here is a great old recipe for a really tasty Ice Box Cake - I know you'll enjoy it with some steaming hot coffee this Christmas.
- 1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
- 2 cups cold heavy cream
- 1/2 cup powdered sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 36 chocolate wafer cookies or chocolate graham crackers
- 1 (1.4-ounce) Heath bar, chopped
Combine peanut butter and 1/4 cup cream in a large bowl. Stir until smooth and softened. Beat remaining 1-3/4 cups cream, sugar and vanilla in another large bowl until soft peaks form. Stir about one-quarter of whipped cream into peanut butter mixture. Fold in remaining cream.
Line a 9-inch springform pan with plastic wrap. Using a long-handled, wide rubber spatula, spread a thin layer of peanut butter/cream mixture on bottom of pan. Arrange 12 cookies on top and cover with about one-third of remaining peanut butter/cream mixture. Repeat with two more layers of cookies and peanut butter/cream mixture, ending with peanut butter/cream mixture. Sprinkle Heath bar around top edge and refrigerate 5 hours to overnight. Remove pan side. Gently lift cake by the plastic wrap to remove it from the pan bottom and peel away the plastic wrap.
Serves 10.
Dickens Winter Spice Cake
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, the good folks were stuffing delicious spice cake into their mouths. Hey, at least it rhymes, right? Seriously, this is an excellent spiced cake recipe that you are gonna love.
Cakes
- 1-1/4 cups vegetable oil
- 2 cups sugar
- 3 eggs
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- 1-1/4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 3-1/4 cups coarsely chopped, peeled and cored apples
- 3 tablespoons brandy
Glaze
- 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- 6 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 3 tablespoons brandy
- 2 tablespoons heavy cream
- Powdered sugar
Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease Bundt pan. Combine oil and sugar in a large mixing bowl. Beat with a wire whisk until thick and opaque. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Sift together flour, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, baking soda and salt. Add flour mixture to egg mixture; blend well. Add apple and brandy all at once; stir until apples are evenly distributed.
Pour batter into prepared Bundt pan. Bake 1 hour and 15 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Remove from oven and let cool 10 minutes before removing from pan.
While cakes are baking, make the glaze: Melt butter in a saucepan and stir in sugars. Add brandy and cream; stir well. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer 4 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Pour glas over warm cake just before serving. Sprinkle with powdered sugar, if desired. Serves 16.
Spiced Rum Balls
There are many different varieties of these ball cookies - Bourbon Balls are common in Kentucky - and I've heard of folks even making White Lightnin' Balls (whew!). But in the Winter, I prefer Spiced Rum Balls. They are real easy to make and if you don't care for Spiced Rum, substitute with whatever you like - Old Grand Dad's Bourbon for example. Either way, they are simply delicious - and have a nice "kick" to them.
- 12 cups crushed vanilla wafers (about 4 boxes)
- 3/4 cup dark corn syrup
- 6 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
- 4-1/4 cups powdered sugar
- 4-3/4 cups chopped pecans
- 3 cups Spiced Rum (such as Captain Morgans)
Mix the vanilla wafers, corn syrup, cocoa powder, 4 cups powdered sugar (keep 1/4 cup for later), 4 cups pecans (keep 3/4 cup for later) and rum. Regrigerate at least 12 hours.
Shape into balls. Pulverize remaining 3/4 cup pecans and sift in remaining 1/4 cup powdered sugar. Mix together and roll rum balls in mixture.
Makes 6 dozen.
Never-Fail Pie Crust
Here is the recipe for a never fail pie crust which makes a great crust for pie or fritters. I will give the recipe for the dough first and then how to make the fritter shape.
- 4 to 4 1/4 cups plain flour 1 egg
- 1 tbs sugar 1 tbs vinegar
- 3 tsp salt ½ cup water
- 1 3/4 cups shortening
Sift flour, sugar and salt into a large bowl. Beat the egg and combine with vinegar and water. Cut shortening into flour, sprinkle with egg mixture, and mix all together. Gather the dough into a ball, wrap in wax paper and chill for about 30 mins before using. This dough can be kept in the ref up to 1 week. Or you can divide it into 4 parts (1 pie shell ea) wrap each securely and freeze.
Ok we all know how to make a pie crust now so have fun with this recipe. Making a fritter is basically the same. Pinch off a half cup of dough and on a floured surface roll it out into the same shape as a pie crust only this crust is going to be about 5-6 inches across. When rolled out put 1/4 cup of the apple fritter mix in the center. Then fold one edge over to meet the other. Use a fork to mash down the top edge and join it to the bottom. Place in a greased pan and fry till done.
This is the exact fritter we made in the 1950s-60s and you are about to taste a little bit of heaven. Enjoy :)
Mom's Apple FrittersIf you would like Alice Gurkin’s recipe for her Apple Fritters here it is:
- Peel, core and slice 6 large apples.
- 1/4 cup sugar
- 1/4 cup packed brown sugar
- ½ tsp. apple pie spice
- ½ tsp. allspice
- ½ tsp. cinnamon (if desired, and I generally do)
- 1/4 cup butter
- 1/4 cup corn starch mixed with ½ cup water. (Be sure to mix well)
Mix the first 7 ingredients in a large skillet and cook slowly (low to medium heat) When the apples appear to be about done mix in the corn starch/water mixture and cook until thickened. If the mix is too soupy add a bit more water. If too thin add a bit more corn starch. This mix works well for a scratch made apple pie. Personally, we make this recipe substituting Splenda and artificial brown sugar to create a sugar free treat.
Christmas in Eastern North Carolina
In 1965 my family was living on a farm in the southern part of Chowan County, North Carolina. My father had always been a farmer and us kids grew up working in the fields on our farm. Mom worked the hardest of all and her day began long before daylight. She would be in the kitchen preparing breakfast for our brood of 11 kids. Sally Ann was the oldest at 17 and Chub the youngest at 4 years old. Billy Bob, Jimbo, Snowdean, Woodrow, Lynda, Nora, and the twins Mozelle and Raynell. And of course me, Jethro.
We never had a whole lot but Mom and Dad made sure we were clean, fed and went to church every Sunday. I don’t know that I ever saw Dad at rest until this last year. He was always busy in the fields tending the corn or cotton or tobacco. When he wasn’t in the fields he would be working on his tractor or old 54 Chevy truck. This last year, we were looking at a bumper crop and the tobacco was going to see us through and probably pay off the mortgage.
Summer and Fall in North Carolina was a magical time for us kids. Sure we had to work, but there was still time to wander the dusty roads or go fishing. It was as though we had our own telepathy and it would take no time to get up a couple of teams to play baseball or football. When it was too hot to play ball we would head for the closest creek and soon be splashing and swimming. It was a grand time for us kids. I can remember standing by the edge of the barn with Dad looking out over the fields of tobacco and he was proud enough to bust. The stalks were so loaded with leaves it seemed they must topple over. Dad placed his big hand on my shoulder and said “Jed. It’s been a sight of years, but this year the farm will be ours, free and clear. You and your brothers and sisters have been a world of help to your Mom and I. I know it’s been hard on you, but after this year we can all relax a bit and just enjoy life.” Standing there, looking over those fields of tobacco, I felt a glimmer of what my Dad was feeling and I was happy for him and us as a family.
Late summer and our tobacco crop was ready for harvest. The leaves were just starting to turn golden yellow and Dad had already traded labor with four of our neighbors and next week would be our time to crop and barn tobacco. That Wednesday we were listening to the radio and over the nightly news came word that Wilmington was being pounded with heavy rains and winds. Dad allowed as how Wilmington was far enough from us that the rain shouldn’t bother our tobacco harvest and we all went to bed in preparation for the mornings labors to ready us for our own tobacco harvest.
Near midnight we awoke to a crescendo of noise. Rain pounded against the windows and the wind was screaming through the pecan trees and bits of limbs were smashing against the side of the house. We quickly closed all of the outside shutters, but not before most of the windows on the east side of the house were broken. The wind screamed around our home and over all of this noise came a roaring as if a train were going at full speed just outside. In a very short time our entire home was vibrating and moaning and with a rending roar part of the roof blew away and we had to scramble to the center hallway in case the outer walls collapsed. The disappearance of part of the roof seemed to equalize pressure to the outside and even though our home was buffeted and holes knocked in the siding it did not collapse or blow away. After 3 hours of this huge storm the noise abated and most of us kids managed to sleep through the rest of the storm.
We awoke to a changed world. Dad later said that we had some small tornadoes mixed with the hurricane, but no matter what, it was a disaster for us. Our home had holes knocked into it and the roof portion over the kitchen was mostly gone and water damaged much of the inside. Outside, our barn was simply gone. Most of it was torn to kindling and it was destroyed. Our John Deere tractor had been caught up with the barn and smashed into the pickup. Both were damaged beyond any repair. As bad as all this was, the damage to our tobacco crop was total devastation. The barn siding and other debris had ripped through the ripened stalks of tobacco and only an occasional bare stalk stood here and there where yesterday were acres of ripening tobacco. We were all stunned and all of us, with the possible exception of Chub, knew the magnitude of the disaster that had befallen us. A whole years work gone. We knew that this year there would be no extras in our home. That day we spent the entire day salvaging what we could. A pitchfork here, a grubbing hoe there. The pecan trees were all blown down and Dad cut the limbs poking into the house.
Unfortunately, Silas Wilcox, president of Chowan Savings and Loan, held the note on our farm. It was just after 1:30 that he came driving up our lane. He parked his new Chrysler at the corner of the house and slowly walked around looking at the damage. I was young, but I knew what a miserable skinflint he was and knew of at least 3 other farms he had foreclosed on. He stood looking at Dad and Mom and rocking back on his heels with his gut hanging out asked what they intended to do about making their payment good without a cash crop. Dad looked him in the eye and said we would do whatever it took to make the payment. Mr. Wilcox sucked in his cheek and replied “I will advance you enough money to put the roof back over this end of the house, but there won’t be any more. I wouldn’t do that, but I don’t want to see the house totally ruined when I have to take it in.” I thought Dad was going to hit him and I believe Mr. Wilcox thought so too. He nearly tripped over his own feet getting turned around and back into his car. When he gained the safety of his automobile he rolled down the window and yelled “That note is due and payable on Dec. 26th. If it isn’t in the bank by 12:00 noon I will have the Sheriff out here by 12:30.” With that he roared on back into town. We were an awful somber family over the next few days. Dad, didn’t want to take that advance, but it was that or we would have no roof. Two days later the damaged portion of the roof was replaced and only the different colored tin showed where the repair had been made.
The following weeks Dad went all over our area, but there was no work to be found. An occasional day of work here and there, but nothing that would hardly put food on the table. We knew that at this rate we would not have enough to live on, much less pay the mortgage. Our next door neighbors were the Beasleys and their son, Bo, was working for a logging company down in the Dismal Swamps just outside of Pinetown. Two weeks after the storm Bo was waiting for us when we came out of church and pulled Dad to one side and they stood talking for some time. Dad was awfully solemn while we were walking home and when we got to the house he told us kids to wait outside while him and Mom talked. That evening, after supper, Pa told us he had an announcement to make. He slowly looked around the table and said. “You all know what we are up against right now and your Mom and I have decided that I am going to have to leave this area to earn enough money for us to live on.” Mom was sitting there with a tear running down her face and Dad wouldn’t look at her. He went on. “Bo told me about a job with the Dismal Swamps logging company and I am going down there with him tonight. I want you all to take care of your mother and I will be back by Christmas.” With that he went into their bedroom and returned with a duffle bag they had packed and hugged us all and kissed Mom goodbye. I sat and watched him walking up the lane until he finally faded into the dusk of evening.
It was a strange summer for us. All of us who could get work did so. I never received any money for the work I did, but did get food for our table. I built a hog pen for one neighbor and he gave me two shoats. The job wasn’t worth the shoats and I expect there was a bit of neighborly love involved there. On another job I picked up a settin hen and 8 eggs that eventually hatched. We all worked and with the little bit of money Dad was able to send we got by. That Fall only the older kids got new shoes and clothes. The rest of us wore what the bigger kids passed down. If we couldn’t make it or earn it we did without. Dad sent letters every week. At the time I didn’t know how hard he had to work, but later I heard about him and the other men having to saw and chop trees down in The Dismals. A railroad spur had been run into the swamps and the loggers had to chop the trees and get them to the line so the switch engine could run them out to the main line. It was back breaking, dangerous labor and not everyone made it out alive or whole. Bo Beasley was killed by a tree that smashed into the swamp and then kicked back to kill him and another man. Others got maimed. The logging company just said it was dangerous work and everyone knew what they were getting into. Besides, they could just hire more men. That fall and early winter we worked at chopping up the pecan trees and at least we got heat and cooking kindling out of them.
Mr. Wilcox came by now and then and he would try to time it so he got there before us kids got home from school. On a couple of occasions we came home to find Mom crying but we thought it was from missing Dad. I don’t think we would have known what was going on if I hadn’t been home sick one day. Mr. Wilcox came driving up in his big fine car and Mom met him at the front steps. In the meantime I had walked up inside and was standing just inside the door. I could hear Mom murmuring and then Mr. Wilcox spoke right up. “Look” He said. “If you would just be a bit nicer to me I could make this a lot easier for you. I’ve seen your kids in their ragged clothes and I bet they could stand a good meal or two. No one need know I’ve even been here.” I realized exactly what was going on and stepped through the door. Mr. Wilcox didn’t even know I was there and continued talking in that honey dripping voice. I didn’t yell but I spoke in a firm voice. “Get out of here you old son of a bitch.” He looked startled to see me standing there and turned and practically ran back to his car. He never even looked at us as he pulled away. I thought Mom would wallop me for cussing, but she just hugged me and told me to get back into bed. We never spoke about what I heard Mr. Wilcox say.
December finally came around and Dad sent a letter saying he would have the money to save the farm one week before Christmas. All that month we were excited and even though our Christmas tree was decorated with paper stars and strung popcorn it was the best looking tree we had ever had. Christmas Eve fell on Wednesday that year and Dad said he would be home on Tuesday. Monday we had the biggest snowfall we have had in 40 years. In places it was nearly 2 feet deep and no automobiles could move at all. Tuesday Dad didn’t come and the day was cold and crystal clear. We didn’t know it, but Dad was on a train that was unable to move in places unless the passengers shoveled enough snow for it to move a few more miles. The entire eastern coast of North Carolina was socked in. All day Wednesday we were looking for Dad, but the only thing we saw was a snowplow clearing a single lane on the road past our farm. That afternoon a car finally came our way and pulled over by our lane. By this time we all recognized Mr. Wilcox’s auto and we watched him trudge through the snow to our front door. Mom had the door open before he could knock and Mr. Wilcox said. “Your husband is not going to be able to get home in time to pay this mortgage and I expect you to be out of this house Friday at 12:00. Mom slammed the door in his face and he stood there working his fingers for a moment and then turned and trudged his way back to his car. That Christmas Evening we put our final decorations on the tree and a candle at the very top. Mom and the girls made some candy and we all had an apple and some popcorn. Mom had managed to put by enough apples for fritters and we sat and sang Christmas Carols until nearly midnight. Chub and a couple of the other young kids had already drifted off to sleep. To be honest with you I was feeling kinda sleepy myself when I heard someone stomping snow off their feet on the porch. I flew up like a shot. If it was that damned Mr. Wilcox again I would light into him this time. Before I could get there the front door flew open and there was Dad going Ho Ho Ho with his arms full of packages. Mom started squalling and so were half of us kids. His arms weren’t big enough to go around all of us, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. We all got our hugs and kisses in and ours had to of been the happiest house in all of North Carolina that Christmas Eve.
There wasn’t much sleep in our house that Christmas Eve and morning saw us still gabbling away. The following morning it was gently snowing again and all you could see was white to the horizon. We spent Christmas Day just enjoying each others company and Dad told us that he was not going to go back into the Dismal Swamps as a logger. He had been training to operate the switch engine for the railroad and he was the new engineer for the Southern Railroad switch engine. I wish I could say Dad got the farm back up and running, but it never happened. Farming had gotten so expensive that he was never able to get enough money to make it work again and he eventually retired as District Manager for the Southern Railroad.
Oh he didn’t lose the farm. On Friday morning he went to the bank and in front of witnesses he produced the cash money and paid off the mortgage. Mr. Wilcox looked like he had a bitter taste in his mouth the entire time he was signing off on the mortgage. When he handed Dad the mortgage papers he stood up and offered his hand for a shake. Dad just looked at it and then looked him dead in the eye. He said. “I know what you tried while I was gone and my boy Jed pegged you right. Except he only got it half right. You are a miserable son of a bitch.” With that Dad smashed his huge right hand into the middle of Wilcox’s face. Blood flew from his splattered nose and it never did grow back straight. We had many more Christmas' at the old farm stead and Chub is still living there, but no other Christmas was more joyful.
Merry Christmas!
- Bob Gurkin
It's hard to believe that another year has already gone by - man, oh man - going way too fast!
This December, we are going to post recipes and old tales that are obviously related to Christmas and Winter. Heck, North Carolina has already gotten snow this month - which doesn't happen but once in a while. As for recipes - I'm craving lots and lots of sweets this month - so that is what we're going to post. We hope y'all enjoy them as much as we do!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
From all the Gurkin Brothers - Chuck, Rick and Bob - and please say a prayer for Skip - hope he is having a good ole time up there in Heaven!
