Poems & Recipes

Recipes

Bubble and Squeak
3 unpeeled potatoes, boiled	3 slices bacon, chopped & browned
4 c. cabbage, chopped & blanched	bacon fat
1/2 medium yellow onion, peeled & chopped	1/4 cup chopped ham
1 zucchini, grated	fresh ground black pepper to taste

Mash the unpeeled potatoes with your hands (not too much). Add the cabbage, onion, zucchini, bacon and ham. Toss gently to mix. Heat a nonstick frying pan. Place the bacon fat in the pan and press the potato mixture on top, Brown over medium low to medium heat until golden brown on the bottom. This will probably take about 1/2 hour. Invert onto a plate. Serves 4 to 6. Serve with a green salad.

Cawl Cennin A Phersli
1 pound stewing beef	flour
1 pound neck of lamb	small onions
carrots	potatoes
parsnips	leeks
swede	parsley
water	(Quantities will vary as to taste)

Put meat in a big saucepan, cover with salt water and simmer for 2 hours. Cut carrots and parsnips in halves; chop swede small. Add to meat. Boil broth for further 10 minutes. Then add potatoes and finely chopped leeks. Continue cooking 15 minutes. Thicken with flour paste. Finally, add chopped parsley. Reboil for a short time.

Currant Cookies
1 cup margarine	1/2 tsp. ground cloves
3 cups rolled oats	1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 cup sugar	1/2 cup dried currants
3/4 cup sifted flour	1/4 cup milk
1 tsp. baking soda

Soften margarine in a large bowl. Blend in oats and sugar. Add flour, baking soda, cloves and cinnamon. Stir in currants and milk, mix well. Shape into small balls about 1 inch in diameter. Place on greased baking sheets, about 3 inches apart. Bake in moderate 350° oven 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown. Remove from baking sheets and cool.

Poems

A Lingering Light

There's a little old church on the highway,
That is naught to the passer-by,
Just a little white spot through the sun ray,
When they speed-almost they would fly.

So silently quaint this meeting house stands
On the corner of "Memory Lane",
Against a hill, a brook, and lands
Folding backward, once and again.

'Twas firmly built by men in calmer days,
To make it last for future heirs.
Night and rain settled down upon the haze,
The crowds pass on - there's no time for prayers.

There's not a lamp outside to spread a light
Upon its walk, and lonely frame -
Just windows closed, and hammered so tight,
With shutters cold, dark green, dull plain.

Yet to us, this little church is living!!!
With arms stretched o'er its sacred dust -
Something of us - long years - of believing
Had touched it - preserved it - from rust.

Now, it's once each year our gentle pilgrims
Wend their way - to a home-felt shrine -
For courage, comfort, joy of songs and hymns,
And bow the knee in peace divine.

The sun beats warm upon our roof today.
May we chant, dear friends, Blest the Tie;
The wind's soft breath above, floats white cloud-curls,
The crowds pass on - no prayers to say.

by Mattie Parry Evans

The Little White Church

The little white church at the foot of the hill
Stands solid, sound and sure, guarding its corner
In stunning simplicity one hundred fifty years,
This graceful, enduring, esthetic treasure
Serves as a gem of infinite measure.

Is the little white church an endangered species?
Dynamic magnet? Oasis of beauty?
Or does our little white church at the foot of the hill
Manifest sturdy, granite faith still?

Reprinted with permission
1995, 2002 Mary Jane Brown

This Little Church