Living, Dying and Food

     Friday evening last my wife's mother died.  She was the undisputed matriarch of her family.  A quiet and unassuming woman who was gracious and understated.  It was nearly 40 years ago that I first met her and I recall sitting around the dining room table of her home with the rest of the family for a Sunday dinner.  She was busy in the kitchen preparing the meal, and when it arrived at the table I was horrified to discover that in addition to the anticipated meat and potatoes she also served two vegetables.  At home I was loath to eat even one and now I had to be polite and fill my plate with a double dose of the dreaded side dishes.

     It was interesting to me that even though our homes were only about 25 miles apart the cultural differences were significant.  For the first time I was introduced to a Scotch-Irish cuisine, having grown up in a decidedly Pennsylvania German environment.  Things like scrapple and shoo fly pie were not a part of the diet there as they were in my home.  So for me, while the meals eaten with my in-laws were healthy and wholesome, they were different.

     So now as we prepare to celebrate a life well lived we will also gather together for a communal meal following in the church hall.  I can't help but wonder if I will see any funeral pie on the dessert table.  That, too, is a Pennsylvania "Dutch" tradition.  Funeral pie, or Rosina pie as it is sometimes called, is still commonly prepared and served at such events.  Raisins are the main element (Rosina is German for raisin), and unlike the seasonal fruits of apples, peaches and blueberries, is available year round as are the other ingredients: brown sugar, cornstarch, butter, cinnamon, sugar, flour and cider vinegar.  It can be made a day or two in advance and keeps well without refrigeration.  And it is very, very sweet.  Some say cloyingly so.  And that is done with the intention of helping the mourners forget the pain of their grief, if for only a moment.

     I don't expect to see any funeral pie on Friday.  But then again I hope not to see two vegetables either.