I had the pleasure of meeting Amanda, an incredibly gifted, smart, and overall amazing woman, while we were both working in Lebanon. We bonded over post-work workouts, casual movie nights, and fun weekends living it up in Beirut. When I was thinking about starting Feasting Hearts, and asking friends for some early contributions, Amanda naturally came to mind. I remember her recollections of very Americana treats from her native Georgia (such as boiled peanuts!), and when she treated our motely crue to a traditional Thanksgiving feast right there in northern Lebanon. 

Amanda has shared an incredibly touching story, and one I am sure many of the community members can empathize with. I am honoured that Amanda and her family have shared this incredibly special recipe, I hope it makes its way into your kitchen soon -

I never got to meet my maternal grandmother. She suddenly and tragically passed away a mere six months before my mom gave birth to my older sister. Though I have never met her, I have heard her voice in the stories my mom and uncles have told me. I’ve caught glimpses of her in the mirror through the brown eyes that I inherited from her. And I’ve felt her guiding hand as I’ve followed recipes copied from her gentle script on the recipe cards that now belong to my mom. So, I may have never met her, but I still know her.

I know she was quiet but had a strength and a voice that commanded respect. She had deep faith and valued tradition, yet she ignored her own father’s wishes in the aftermath of WWII by eloping with my grandfather, a moonshining veteran who barely had two dimes to rub together. She built a life with him as he transformed from a man living a bit outside the law to a respectable farmer, factory worker, and family man. She spent her life making their small, clapboard farmhouse a home and raised three incredible children. And while she didn’t learn to drive a car until she was in her 50s, she made sure my mom—her oldest child and only daughter—took every opportunity afforded her to be independent and self-sufficient, from learning to drive as soon as she was able to becoming the first in her family to earn a college degree. 

So, I know her, but also I don’t. As a child I mourned the loss of her and never getting to truly know her. As an adult I’ve come to appreciate the beauty in gradually discovering snapshots of her through the memories of others and the benefit of getting to fill the empty frames with my own imagination. Yet I’m never really sure if the portrait I’ve conjured up of who she was could ever do any justice to live model herself. But either way, I do know I love her—the bits that are real and imagined.

You see, my grandma has made guest appearances throughout my life. Not in any supernatural kind of way, but more concretely through the scraps of paper she left behind. Her recipes. Being an exceptional cook, she left behind a wealth of amazing recipes for dishes and sweets my family still enjoys to this day. My favorite of them all is her homemade white icing. It’s the perfect icing for chocolate cake. In addition to tasting absolutely amazing, it is a grandmother personified—sweet, indulgent, and incredibly special. 

Through her icing recipe, my grandmother left remnants of her love that I’ve not only received through my mom on countless special occasions, but that I’ve also gotten to share with others over the years. When I was living in a new city with very few friends, completely questioning my life choices, and consequently dreading my impending 33rd birthday, my parents and sister showed up on my doorstep with a chocolate cake topped with grandma’s icing. There are honestly few times in my life when I’ve ever felt so relieved, grateful, and truly loved. I like to think she was there for that. When I spent my first Thanksgiving out of the States and away from my family, having moved to Lebanon only a couple of months prior, I made Thanksgiving dinner for my new eclectic group of friends, and of course served a cake with my grandma’s icing. I like to think she was there for that too, even if she probably would have been a bit unsure of the whole me living in Lebanon part. I also like to think that just as I feel tendrils of her love come through each time I make or eat that icing, somehow, someway she’s getting to feel the love that I’m sending back.

This past Christmas, my mom once again made a chocolate cake with that decadent white icing. Like so many in our family before her, my three-year-old niece instantly fell in love with it and asked, “Grandma, can you make me this cake for my birthday?” “Of course I will,” my mom replied. And now I can’t help but wonder if my niece will one day tell the story of her grandma’s white icing, made with a whole lot of sugar but even more love. And I wonder who she’ll meet along the way to share it with. My grandma never got travel outside of small handful of states in the US and only met two of her six grandchildren and none of her nine great-grandchildren. However, her icing (and love) has traveled the world and will continue to be passed down to future generations. 

Sometimes it makes me sad to think she never got to see the legacy she left behind and never got to fully realize her impact on us. Actor Andrew Garfield recently described grief as the unexpressed love that we never got to tell someone. It’s love that has nowhere to go because the object of that love is no longer here to receive it. So where does that love go? Sometimes it goes into tears. Sometimes it goes into fits of rage. And sometimes it goes into icing.

Grandma Allene’s Icing

Ingredients

• 1 cup milk

• 1/4 cup flour

• 1 cup sugar

• 1 cup Crisco shortening

Method

• Mix the milk and flour together, and put in a saucepan. Boil until thick. Stir almost constantly to keep milk from scalding. When it gets thick, set it aside and let it cool down. 

• In a separate bowl (either a standing mixer, or regular bowl), combine the sugar and Crisco shortening, then add the milk and flour mixture. 

• Use your standing or handheld mixer on its highest speed until the mixture is smooth and fluffy. The secret of this is letting the milk/flour mixture cool down without getting too cold. If you let it cool down for 5 minutes or so, that should be enough.

• Top on cake, cupcakes, or enjoy with a spoon!