I have been hungry for cookies lately. Today I broke down and made some. They were from an old cookbook I found somewhere or other. What a disappointment, I have many tried and true recipes that turn out just fine every time. Why, oh why, do I continue looking for new ones. Anne reminds me of that fact every time I have a cooking disaster.

I will give you a little history as to why I am so eager to try new things. It runs in the family. After the war in 1948, a new car was offered in America. It was the Tucker. Wow! That automobile had more bells and whistles than could be imagined. “The Tucker is the car of the future offered today,” they said. Dad wanted one. He could taste it, he wanted one so badly.

Let me tell you about the Tucker. The engine was a rear mounted H-6 (horizontaly opposed, ohv, 335 ci, 166 bhp and 372 lbs/ft torque), whatever that all means.

Mother never made candy. During the Great Depression, we appreciated the occasional sugar or molasses cookies Mother did make. She always bought chocolate-covered fondant from Woolworth's Five and Dime, the only candy we had, except hard Christmas candy and one Hersey Bar. (That is another story.)

Mother worked in a candy factory as a teenager. She dipped chocolate-covered fondant drops. That remained mother's favorite candy throughout her life. I am not so prejudiced. I like lots of different candies. I think my favorite is Peanut Butter Fudge.

A couple of years ago, Bonnie Peters and I were talking about old timey sayings. Later, I sat down and compiled a bunch of them. Back in the day, before television and a movie costing an arm and a leg, we enjoyed sitting around seeing who could remember the most maxims. Most have a kernel of truth in them. See if you remember any of these:

Now there is something you don't see on a salad bar anymore. I am talking about stuffed celery or celery roses. I remember when I first saw stuffed celery at a potluck. They certainly didn't look like much. But after trying one, I was hooked. I looked for them at every potluck after that. It took a while to learn how to make them. They seemed so simple. There must be a catch to making the filling. What a surprise. There wasn't. I soon learned to make several cheese fillings. See what you think of these. This is how I make stuffed celery.

I have noticed that boneless, skinless chicken breasts have been on sale lately. I won't buy them with the skin still attached and bones on the underside. That is all waste, as I see it. Yes, they are cheaper per pound that way, but when you subtract the skin and bones, they are not.

There are a jillion bean and pasta salads out there. They are all a little different and good, too. This one is a bit different from the rest. The celery is partially cooked. The onion is marinated in white vinegar. All of that does make a difference. Try it and see what you think. You can use any combination of canned beans, even add green beans, if you like. Mix it up.

Years ago, we received a five-pound block of American cheese when we picked up what we called “welfare food.” It was so good. There is nothing to compare with it nowadays. I miss that cheese.

I have a recipe for those of you who receive food commodities. Sometimes you really have to reach to find a good tasting recipe for those items that you are not familiar with. We grow up eating certain dishes. Our mothers made them as did our grandmas. It can be hard to learn to like something new, but give it a try.

Here is a variation on a lemon meringue pie I hope you will try. So, you have problems with pie crust? This crust can't go wrong. Just stir up the ingredients and press into the bottom of the pan. Cook the filling and top the crust with it. Spread with meringue and pop it in the oven. There you have it. A nice easy version of a lemon meringue pie. Also, you can get up to 15 servings out of the pan.

LEMON MERINGUE DESSERT

Crust:
1 1/4 cups plain flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup cold butter or margarine
1/4 cup finely chopped walnuts or pecans

The heavy rain woke me up and as I lay there listening to it pounding our tin roof, I thought about how it used to be. Like everyone we knew, there was a little building out back at the end of the well worn path. The outhouse stood there in its regal majesty. It had importance and knew it.