Our Northern Exposure

CiCi and I found our northern relatives a bit foreign-feeling and somewhat difficult to understand.

We were around our warm & huggable Mommas so often and felt a simple, unconditional acceptance with her that left us a bit speechless at times when meeting the sharp eyes and comments of our father’s side of the family. Oh, I don’t question that they loved us – they just had a different way of showing it.

I felt like it was especially hard for me because CiCi really was the picture of perfection (I can seriously see you rolling your eyes, CiCi) but for tomboy me with skinned knees, stringy hair and overactive, gangly limbs - I often didn’t feel that I weighed in well on the “southern offspring” scales.

But as the years have passed I have come to wonder about some of these mysterious forebears. What they were like?... What their lives were like?…. When I look into Hannah Edgerton’s (slightly scary) eyes, I find myself wondering what kind of woman she was. What if she liked some of the same things that I do, like John Keats or Jane Austen or a dark, misty night with Wilkie Collin’s mystery novel, The Woman In White in hand? Born in 1836, maybe her life was so filled with the have-to-do’s like sewing, washing, and ironing clothes, cooking and canning food, cleaning house, and keeping fires going in a cold northeastern home that she never had a chance to read.

The photo of Hannah’s daughter, Sarah Louis Edgerton Cadwell (born in 1872) lends itself to thoughts of a daughter who must have been well loved for this portrait to have been made. She stands tall and has a smile that seems to reveal confidence. She went on to marry an immigrant from Cornwall, England and one of her children was the grandmother of CiCi and me. How did she meet this newcomer to America? And did she work hard to recreate the foods that he loved from his native Cornwall? Did he have to stare into Hannah’s serious face and tell her that he was going to have to take their Sarah Louise away (shudder)…?

And then there is young Edith (our Grandmommy). I don’t know how old she is in either of these photos, but looking at them makes me realize how little I knew her really. However, she was sweet to pass these priceless family photos along to me. Below is a Cornish Pasty (pronounced pass-tee) recipe that Grandmommy gave to me when I was in college. I love that it could be a 100-year-old family recipe passed down from a great grandfather who brought it over as the favorite dish that his mother would make for him far away and back over the sea.

As I looked into Hannah’s (blaring) eyes or contemplated Sarah’s Mona Lisa-like smile, I wondered if the Lord might let us meet one day. Maybe then we could have that Keats talk.

CORNISH PASTIES
Make enough pie crust for as many pasties as you are going to make. I generally use left over pork roast when I make them.

Cut pork in cubes and cut potatoes in cubes. Chop onions.

Roll crust out for one crust pie and put some of the meat on half of crust then put potatoes, onions, parsley flakes, salt & pepper on top of meat. Lap crust over and seal. Punch a few holes in the top with fork and shape like a quarter moon.

Pie Crust

• 1 cup flour
• ½ teaspoon salt
• ¼ cup Wesson oil
• 2 Tablespoons milk
• Mix with fork and roll between 2 pieces of waxed paper

For one crust pie


Love to the Pamela’s Girls,
Auntie J.