Recipe As Memory and History

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • November 7, 2022

I may have written about this before but it came across my mind the other day while in the kitchen – as it always does. 


When I work in the kitchen, cooking or baking a family recipe, all sort of memories and thoughts of family history come back into my mind. Some are stories passed down; others are memories that I hold in the recesses of my mind that get stirred up (ha!) while cooking. I often feel like Mama Minnie is leaning over my shoulder as I attempt – and likely    destroy – her pasta sauce recipe. It was a recipe my Mother wrote down as Mama Minnie made a batch of her sauce. My Mother figured if she was in the kitchen, writing it down, she would get her grandmother-in-law’s recipe exact. Unfortunately, try as she did, my Mother never felt it was the same and handed it to me. I don’t remember tasting my great grandmother’s pasta sauce but now I riff on it and she may not like what I do. Because when I followed the recipe, it did not taste right. How would I know “right?” Maybe it’s the genes not the taste buds. 


I often feel Mama Minnie and her daughter-in-law, my grandmother, leaning over my shoulder with their kitchen aprons on commenting on my eggplant parmesan (one of my favorite things). And then, I think about running around barefoot in my Mother’s vegetable garden at maybe the age of 2 or so (yeah I have a serious memory so don’t ever tell me you didn’t say something when you did) picking things for her. I remember distinctly being plopped in over the fence after a play in my wading pool and told to pick X, Y, and Z and I know there were eggplants in there. 


Almond Poppy Seed Muffins. I just made those. They were a big favorite of my Dad’s. It’s not a family recipe though. In his office, they had a lot of foodies – and a lot of Italians I might add. Once they moved their offices out of the city, and were in a more relaxed setting, they had “Big Breakfasts” every Friday, no doubt HIGHLY encouraged and supported by my Dad. It helped that they had a small efficiency kitchen installed so they could cook and bring things in. I looked forward to helping out in my Dad’s office so I could be with him (and also those Big   Breakfasts) – though not the library filing of thousands of pages of tax updates printed on TISSUE paper. A woman who worked for him was a great cook and she and my Dad had come across these muffins and wanted to replicate them. I think it took MANY batches before she came up with what they both thought was the right amount of    almond – my Dad was an almond freak as I am too. They obviously enjoyed tasting all the test runs but the final recipe is excellent and even better, easy. Each time I make it, I think about my Dad’s office, going to work with him, and those fun Big Breakfasts that turned a CPA office into an incredible bakery and restaurant every Friday!


JNLF


P.S. If you are wondering why she was called Mama Minnie – my Dad was the first grandchild and so was the one who named the grandparents. She was tiny, especially in comparison to her husband, who called her Minn or Minnie. Thus, she became Mama Minnie and her husband (my great grandfather) became Big Daddy.

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By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger December 15, 2025
[1855] On the 12 th [December] at 8 o’clock, I found a comet in Cetus. It is probably that seen by Bruhns in Berlin on Nov. 12. It is round and bright and moved so rapidly that in an hour I was certain of its change of place. From 8 to 10 ½ it had moved about half the diameter of my field of view. I tho’t it varied in its light but of this I am not quite certain, as I at times changed from one instrument to another, and I cannot be certain that my eye was not somewhat affected by the size of different powers, so as to affect my judgement. I would give a good deal for it to be my own possession, because it would convince me that I was not declining in vigor.  This comet, unlike her won comet of October 1, 1847, is fairly fast moving – it would take many calculations and much time for her comet to illustrate its movement – beyond just the appearance of its “tail.” Maria had made earlier comments in the month about if being a hard year – the hardest of her life. The loss of friends, her mother’s illness. But this, with other matters, buoyed her spirit and she talked about her “blessings.” This comet was one seen by Maria only eight years after her comet discovery so it seems interesting that she feels she is slipping and not as “vigorous” – she is only thirty-seven years old at this date. JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger December 9, 2025
Another re-blog. I came across this recently while looking through my computer files. I want to re-blog it in memory of Jean Hughes, an incredibly gifted islander, who was directly influential in the lives of so many island children and those in need. She was the Coffin School Trustee’s President for many years and I had the honor to serve as a trustee under her. She passed away in the summer of 2025. Jeanie loaned me this from her family collections as she thought I would enjoy it. She knew me better than I thought she did. With love. 1830s Chinese silk to be exact. It literally floated into my lap as I sat reading a letter.  A letter from a young Nantucket girl to her grandparents. A young girl who just several years before had moved from tiny Nantucket Island to San Francisco with her mother to join her father. He had moved for better work and a better life. Nantucket was in an economic decline. Reading this treasure trove of letters – loaned to me by a friend who is a descendant of these people I mention – was like spying on them. Now, when I read Mitchell family letters and writing it is slightly different for me. Having worked in the Mitchell House for so long, I feel like they are a part of my family. This batch of letters was different however. I felt like they know I read their letters – as if they were looking over my shoulder or sitting on the other side of the room aghast. I felt like they thought no one ever would – or at the very least an outsider – read this correspondence. The worse letter one was the son writing to his mother upon receipt of her letter telling him of his father’s death. That was hard. Made harder because he thought his father was fine – he was as of the last letter a month or two before. Made harder as I lost my own Father a little over a year ago. I knew how he felt – but cannot imagine receiving a letter that is about a month old telling one of such horrible news. He had not seen his father in several years. I could speak to my Father, visited him monthly, and was there with him. That was not an easy letter to read. The silk fabric piece is quite beautiful – and still pristine – as if it was just folded into the letter yesterday. She wanted to share with her grandparents the dress that her cousin had brought to her directly from Hong Kong. A cousin, who was likely pregnant – or “sick” as was written but it was obvious what “sick” meant (yes, pregnancy was looked at as an illness in a way – and there were high rates of infant and mother mortality during and immediately following birth). The cousin had travelled back and forth to Hong Kong on the China Trade with her husband it seems but due to the pregnancy had to be put off with family or others until the baby was born. This was a common practice for the wives of whale captains who might go to sea with their husbands. They were put off with other whaling families or missionaries in far off ports so that they could have their baby where others could help. Sometimes they were put off months in advance. And, did you know that Nantucket whale wives were the FIRST to go to sea with their captains husbands? They set the trend – after all, we were the whaling capital of the world. At least, until we lost that title for multiple reasons. I digress. The other piece that leads one to realize that money was to be had – at least for the cousin – is that she didn’t bring fabric – she brought the dress already made in Hong Kong. Yes, it would have been less costly there than in the United States but it shows there was extra money for spending. And, there was enough excess fabric inside the dress for this young girl to cut off a piece of it and send it to her grandparents. Making them feel as if they were a part of her daily life – and making her feel that way too. So far from home. On the other side of the continent with Nantucket Sound in the midst, to boot. JNLF
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“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.” -Edith Andrews
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