135 Pleasant Grove Rd
8 recipes
Sunday supper at its finest. Dad always insisted the dumplings had to be thick and pillowy, never flat. He was right.
Double dipped, seasoned overnight. The secret was paprika and patience. Grandma never rushed the oil temperature.
Low and slow in the oven all afternoon. The house smelled like Sunday before church was even over. Potatoes and carrots did all the heavy lifting.
Grandma Ehrhart's sugar cakes were the reason we all fought for the last one on the plate. Crispy edges, soft center, dusted with just enough sugar to make your fingers sticky.
Nilla wafers, bananas, and pudding layered in a glass dish. Every family reunion, it vanished first. Every single time.
Cast iron only. No sugar. If you put sugar in the cornbread, you made cake. This was a hill Grandpa was willing to die on.
Thanksgiving required it. Nobody actually loved it, but everyone ate it. That is the power of tradition.
Baked, never stovetop. Sharp cheddar, a little velveeta for shame, and breadcrumbs on top. The recipe card is stained beyond recognition.