<< ibnelson.com

001 First Memories
002 Hampton Road
003 Cedar Wood
004 A Room Of My Own
005 School Days
006 My Friend Wayne
007 A Great Flood
008 My Mother Makes Biscuits
009 To Disneyland
010 We Go To Mexico
011 The Cabin In The Woods
012 We Go To Yosemite
013 Grandma Nelson
014 Nelson Nursery Early Years

I.B. Nelson according to himself

My Mother makes Biscuits

Marvin the Bear bakes treats for a picnic
©I.B. Nelson

Butter and Honey

One of my clearest early memories of my mother is from my elementary school days when we still lived on Hampton Road. My mother made large trays of baking powder biscuits which were served hot at the breakfast table, with butter and honey. I remember watching her make the dough, wearing an apron, cutting the biscuits from the rolled out dough and placing them on a baking sheet. The finished biscuits would be served stacked up on a large china dish and each of us would split the biscuits and insert a slab of butter and when the butter was melted, cover the biscuit halves with honey. She also baked high-domed apple pies in quantity, peach cobblers, blackberry deep-dish pies and cakes and cookies. To this day one of my favorite breakfasts is a plate of homemade biscuits, which I have made myself, hot, fresh from the oven. plate of fresh hot buttermilk biscuits
©I.B. Nelson

Too Many Apple Pies

When I was about five years old, we came into possession of a large quantity of fresh pippin apples, perfect for apple pies. My mother began to bake apple pies by what seemed to be by the dozen; cooling apple pies were everywhere. Of course, they were delicious and had to be eaten, so we ate apple pie in very great quantity which was wonderful. Then we all promptly came down with hives.

Hives, but No Bees

On occasion she also made hash for dinner, which I really liked. The hash was filled with potatoes meat and spices. At some point I learned that she used liver, which I absolutely hated, to make the hash. I never would eat it after that. In 1971 I was working at the Dream Inn Hotel, situated next to the wharf in Santa Cruz. We got a mid-shift meal, prepared by the chef (and deducted from our pay checks!). The menu was his choice. One night he gushed over how he was fixing "his specialty" - when the meal arrived, it was liver hash. Needless to say, I went hungry that night.