Moderne Frau

My German professor calls me “Eine moderne Frau” during certain class activities. In fact, he just called me that in our last class. According to our limited vocabulary, I’m the epitome of a modern woman. We had been learning how to express our favorite activities. He’d ask “Kochen Sie?” to individuals in the class and they would reply either, “Ja, ich koche gern” (yes, I like to cook) or, “Nein, ich koche nicht gern” (no, I don’t like to cook). It just so happened that most of the girls in my class love to cook elaborate healthy dishes like soy-glazed salmon and sautéed vegetables with quinoa. So, it was a very stark contrast when I replied that no, I didn’t like to cook. At all. “Ah, eine moderne Frau!” exclaimed my professor.

William looks simultaneously shocked & terrified that I was attempting pancakes.

Having moved on to more complex expressions, this past class we learned more verbs to convey our abilities, talents, and obligations. I’m asked “Frau Kletscher, können Sie stricken?” Can I knit? My Grandma Doris, my dad’s mom once taught me….but can I knit now? I reply, “Nein, ich kann nicht stricken” and then I add “ich bin schlecht”. So no, I can’t knit, I’m bad at it. Once again my professor proclaims me “eine moderne Frau.”

Am I a modern woman because my personal preferences don’t align with certain gender stereotypes? Or is it simply because I haven’t needed the skills that are traditionally attributed to women? I’m thinking the answer is a combination of both.

Alice Splettstoeszer on the family's country kitchen.

On one level, looking back into the lives of my ancestors has brought me closer to them. On another, I see just how different my life is from theirs, which can be an interesting distancing experience. I grew up in a fairly large suburb. My parents’ graduating classes were smaller than any one of my class sizes and their entire town population could have attended my high school, with a capacity of 2500, in the same year. We buy everything from the grocery store, except for maybe fresh fruit from the citrus trees in our yard. Though there are small fields of alfalfa and cotton on the Native American reservation less than 10 minutes from my house, I never grew up or worked on a farm. Most of my grandparents had grown up on farms before they moved into the center of the towns they raised their families in. But I grew up in Scottsdale nearly 50 years later. I don’t need to know how to knit or cook and have had to learn other things like computer skills.

Funny article immortalized in the Splettsctoeszer Family Cookbook.

Throughout my project, I’ve tried picturing myself living alongside my ancestors. As noted, it’s an often distancing experience. It’s hard to imagine my lifestyle on a farm: I stay out late attending or working events, then sleep in on the weekend. I cook only out of necessity and prepare simple dishes like pasta, couscous, and sandwiches—then immediately pop my dishes into the dishwasher—or else I order late night takeout with friends.  I do like to live in a clean apartment but when I’m cleaning, I’m usually also procrastinating about schoolwork. I love to do laundry…but these days, who wouldn’t when all you have to do is start the machines and later fold your fresh, warm clothes?

Visiting our family friends' farm.
Stan Ehrke showing us a baby chick.

At the Ehrke's farm.
William & Dad feeding a horse.

I’ve also never really done well with livestock. I love animals but from afar, unless there are dogs around. I’ll always remember when our family friend practically forced me to ride the small, smelly pony at our harvest festival in elementary school. I’ve become more accepting of horses since then, riding on scenic trails in the desert or on a day trip to a hidden waterfall in the Dominican Republic. But I would never own one, or any other kind of common farm animal. I know from experience that I simply couldn’t. In second grade, my school went to Dugan’s Dairy Farm, a milk provider for Shamrock Farms. I don’t have fond memories of the place, and the pictures in my class scrapbook prove it.

Things started out well.
We're shown the tubes of the milking machines.

I clearly can't take the smell of the cows behind my friend, Palmer, & I.

My face of disgust after being coerced to try milking a cow. 

I do have a friend who is interested in agriculture. She wants to own a farm one day in—you guessed it—Minnesota. She loves raising animals and even had a club devoted to raising cattle for competitions during her undergraduate years, when she also majored in agricultural studies. I think there is something modern in that, in using her formal education and global travels to live as a farmer or rancher in today’s world. I wonder what my professor would think of my friend. While I take his “moderne Frau” label lightly and I’m certain he means well, I still feel it is an interesting, almost old-fashioned, reflection of his views; especially in a college classroom in Los Angeles in 2014. I have grown up in a generation where I have the time and means to pursue skills like knitting, cooking, gardening, etc. at my leisure. My life doesn’t depend on them. That is what modern means to me; having choices and the freedom to pick the lifestyle I desire. 

Family Recipe: Banana Bread

When I think of banana bread, I think of my grandparents, Larry and Joyce. Wherever they are--at home or visiting or even with a college care package--the small, moist, brown loaves are sure to make an appearance. Both grandparents make the recipe equally well and the foil is always lovingly wrapped the same way each time. You cannot simply fold it over the bread. Later, I will share the art of the foil wrap.

My grandparents’ trip out to Arizona in my senior year of high school coincided with the week of my knee surgery. I don't like to people to fuss over me when I am ill or injured but it was so wonderful to be pampered with what seemed like an endless supply of the recipe. One of the days I was home from school, my Grandma spent several hours in the kitchen making loaves of Banana Bread and dozens of muffins. Afterwards, we all gorged ourselves, eating the muffins for breakfast or for an afternoon snack and slicing off a chunk of the loaf for a late night treat.

As soon as the Banana Bread is removed from the oven, it fills the kitchen with a light scent of vanilla and banana. That, to me, is the smell of "home sweet home". And though most people would say that baked goods are best fresh out of the oven, my favorite way to eat Banana Bread is cold. Whenever my grandparents have sent baked treats (especially their Banana Bread) I take them out of the package and place them directly into the refrigerator…that is of course, after taking a small first bite. It's good when it's fluffy straight out of the oven, but I absolutely love it when the loaves are stored in the refrigerator because the cold makes the bread dense--and somewhat refreshing, I think. There is nothing like the mouthwatering first cut of a loaf as the butter knife slowly slices through. I have also found that no matter what, whether hot or cold, a slice of Banana Bread spread with some butter is the perfect balm for an especially bad day.

The cover and inner page of The Splettstoeszer Family Cookbook.

When I asked to have a copy of the recipe from my Mom, I discovered it was a multigenerational recipe going back to the Splettstoeszers, family on my Great-Grandpa Harold Karels’ side. In fact, the photocopy of the recipe is right out of the Sploettstoeszer Family Cookbook that was put together upon the death of a family matriarch who loved to cook named Lydia.  To continue her love of cooking and to share her recipes as well as family memories, the Splettstoeszers printed a book and shared it among the extended family. I am no cook, so it would have been a very long time before I found the book on my own among my Mom’s cookbook collection. But I have loved reading through the memories of an old farm kitchen and other family favorites I had not known also originated from Lydia. So I would like to continue her tradition by sharing the Banana Bread recipe.

While another recipe is listed first, my family has always followed Lydia’s Banana Nut Bread Recipe just below it, though the nuts are sometimes left out.

What You Will Need:

¾ Cup Oil

1 ½ Cups Sugar

2 Eggs, Well Beaten

1 Tsp Baking Soda

½ Cup Buttermilk

2 Tsp Vanilla

1 – 1 ½ Cups Mashed Bananas

2 Cups Sifted Flour

¾ Tsp Salt

Directions:

Mix in the order given: oil, sugar, eggs, baking soda, buttermilk, vanilla, bananas, flour and salt. Bake at 350° F. for 1 hour and 35 minutes. Makes 1 large and 1 small loaf.

The Art of the Foil Wrap:

Rip off a sheet of foil long enough to wrap around the loaf and then some. Wrap the loaf lengthwise so that the two edges of the foil meet above the loaf. Press them together then fold one over the other and roll the excess until you reach the loaf. Simply fold the foil roll over the sides of the loaf. This ensures a perfect seal, easy access, and classic packaging of your finished Banana Bread.