Tradition/Sunrise Sunset

Blogging from Bruce
Vonda Keon
November 16, 2008

Tradition, tradition! Tradition!
Have you ever seen ‘Fiddler on the Roof’? It came out on Broadway in 1964 and even though I saw the movie adaptation of it, it is just one of those stories that sticks in my head; especially during this time of the year. It is the story of Tevye, and his attempts to maintain his family and traditions while outside influences encroach upon their lives. He must cope as his world moves progressively further away from established traditions he holds so dear and close. But sometimes the old Traditions have to be broken and new ones started. The Fiddler on the roof that you see in the beginning is symbolic of survival.

Every family I know has some sort of Traditions, be they religious or other wise. In my family, Thanksgiving and Christmas has always had Mom’s chicken and dressing as the main dish. I never remember a year without it.

No one makes dressing like my Mom. My sister and I have tried and we come pretty darn close but it’s still not the same. We both have stood at her side, just breathing down her neck, watching and trying to measure and capture the precise recipe but it always ‘depends’. The recipe can change ever so slightly depending on the chicken or the eggs or the onions or the sage or how you hold your mouth when you are chopping up the celery! The secret ingredient is just Mama making the dressing. We can help by chopping and peeling and baking the corn bread and getting all the things gathered together but it takes Mama’s touch to make it just right!

There was another traditional food that Mama used to make for Christmas. It was her Jam Cake. That recipe was handed down a couple of generations. It was such a rich cake and it took forever to make not to mention it cost an arm and a leg to make. Mama would make just one each year. I would watch that cake for come together like a fine art masterpiece. After she put the finishing touches on it of the candied pineapple rings and the candied cherries and the absolutely perfect pecan halves, it was ready. The Jam Cake needed to cure to be perfect.

For a couple of days we would be getting the last Christmas gifts wrapped and under the tree and getting the house ready for Christmas Eve dinner and all of us would be looking longingly at that cake. Finally Christmas Eve would arrive and all of the relatives would arrive and everyone would grab a plate and load up with that wonderful chicken and dressing, some honey baked ham, sweet potato casserole, corn and sweet peas and creamy fruit salad and hot buttered rolls and lots of sweet iced tea.

All you could hear was smacking and ummms and very little conversation. Then just when you would think that no one had any room left, someone would be begging to cut that cake. It was usually my Papaw Richards. He was a man of few words, usually just chewing on the stem of his pipe and making little puffs of some really nice aromatic tobacco. But when it came to that cake he would put the pipe out and be all smiles and ready to eat.

Mom’s Jam cake is the only other cake that I like besides the Chocolate cake that my sister will make for me once in a blue moon. When I got married I broke with Tradition and Lisa baked me a 3 tiered Chocolate on Chocolate wedding cake. We haven’t had the Jam Cake in several years. I miss it and can still smell all the spices and taste the wonderful cooked frosting as it hardened around the moist cake. Maybe one day I will pull out the recipe and make it for old times sake but only if Mama will stand behind me and tell me exactly how to stir the batter and help me pick out the perfect pecan halves.

So back to Fiddler on the Roof; Old Tevye didn’t handle changes in his Traditions too well. And while I miss some of the Traditions that we have had through out my life, there is always going to be room to add a new one as my daughters get older and start creating some of their own. Things happen in our lives to create those changes. Family members die, children are born, people get married, family members either move or come back home after a long time away.

I think most of us can perch on our roof and be the Fiddler on the roof in our own way as we survive the many changes of our lives.

Sunrise, sunsetSunrise, sunsetSwiftly fly the yearsOne season following anotherLaden with happiness and tears……