"Cook Until Done" and Other Vagaries of Family Recipes

                I had a bag of apples that were about to turn this morning, so I made them into an apple crisp using the family cookbook my sister put together about fifteen years ago.  She had gone through Mom's cookbooks next to a photocopier one day to create her own binder of recipes years before, but some of them were a bit hard to read, having stuck themselves to the bottom of a pan destined for a hot oven.

                When she created the book for all of us, she did us a huge favor.  She forced Mom to quantify some of the recipes that were clearly just reminders to someone who already knows how to make the item.  Every family has a few of these recipes, I hope.  "Combine in the style of..., bake in warm oven until done."  I've ended up with a few of these anyway.  This is the conversation I have when I confront my source:

                "Okay, so I'm making this thing from your recipe.  It says 'warm oven.'  What temperature is a warm oven?  Is that like 275, or closer to 400?"

                "Oooooh, whatever you have the meat in on.  It's a side dish, so it'll bake at a variety of temperatures."

                "I'm making it as the main dish, so it's alone in the oven.  Do you have a temperature recommendation?"

                "Eh.  350 sounds about right."

                "So, now it says to cook until done.  What does that mean?"

                "You cook it until it smells nice and is crispy around the edges.  You know, done."

                "Is there a general idea of time?  Can I switch the laundry, or do I need to stay in the kitchen?"

                "Oh, nothing burns that quickly at 350.  You should be fine."

                Mothers, this is why your children cheat on the family recipes with Julia Child, Betty Crocker, and America's Test Kitchen.  When we start out, we are not confident in our ability to judge "a glop," "a bit," or "enough to fill the bottom of the pan, but not fill-fill the pan."  Throw us a bone, Moms, and rewrite the recipes with some measurements, just as your ancestors did when they switched from "the green glass cup" to a set of standard measuring cups.  Even just a bit of a hint on the things that are learned by touch, like "This is something that makes more sense after the third time you've made it.  Call me."  All the same, thank you for reconstructing the oatmeal cookie recipe that was nicely browned.  That would have died with you, and that would have been a tragedy.

                Back to the apple crisp.  It took a couple makings to realize that I put more apple slices into the dish than my mother did, so if I leave it in the oven until the smell is so good that the neighbors are looking over the fence, all the apples will be sweet and soft.  Nobody else at my house eats my apple crisp much, so I'll be eating it for breakfast all this week.  It's no more sugar than oatmeal or cereal, and at least it's produce.

                I might make the family sugar cookies as long as I have the book out.  Somehow, my grandmother and my mother use the same recipe, but end up with two completely different cookies.  Grandma's are three inches across and are pillowy and thick.  Mom's are crispy and thin and whatever cookie cutter shape struck her fancy.  I guess it's just how they roll them out, but do they bake them at the same temperature and time, or is there a secret alteration I don't know about?  Will anyone tell me if I confront them?  Is it because Grandma uses Crisco?  I use butter.  Does that make a difference?  This is the moment when I consult America's Test Kitchen about the chemistry of baking. 

                I think I lost some of my baking credibility with my mother last month, when I revealed that my baking powder had expired in 2011 (baking powder expires?) and mused that perhaps that had been why things had been a bit rubbery lately.  I'm not certain if she wanted to get off the phone because she had things to do, or because this was comedy gold that needed to be shared.

                Long story short?  If I say I make it all the time, get your seconds early, because I have a good scald on it.  If I say I just made it from scratch for the first time, be prepared to make yourself a sandwich and tell a bunch of lies about eating earlier.