![]() ![]() In my Nana’s elegant pen is one recipe, recorded on a torn piece of stationery from the Dartmouth Alumni Fund, called simply “Salad.”Ĭress with all stems removed. Inside the box are gems from another time: endive slathered with cream cheese and toasted nuts, steak tartare (back in the days when one could “safely” eat raw beef), calves’ liver, and pot roast. ![]() It is stuffed with hand-written index cards and old newspaper clippings that chronicle the life of a woman who didn’t cook, but who wrote out instructions and notes to the various women who cooked for her dinner parties and family meals. It belonged to my maternal grandmother, my Nana. Inside it is the story of a woman I miss. There is a battered black and white metal box sitting on my kitchen counter. Twitter facebook Email This article is more than 8 years old.
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