Cinnamon Twists

A few weeks ago my sister Retha sent me an email from Aunt Mary (Lehman) who had put down in black and white Grandma Rodenberger's recipe for Cinnamon twists.

I call her Grandma Rodenberger. Her maiden name was Elizabeth Bryan Umbrell (born 3/14/97 (1897, that is) in Delta, Colorado) and she was married to my grandfather, Glen, (born January 1, 1888, in Rome Township near Bellingham, WA) on January 27, 1913.

Her recipe for Cinnamon Twists sounds good even if, in the way of many old recipes, it leaves a lot to the skill and common sense of the cook. For instance, it calls for spreading part of the dough with soft butter, coating half with brown sugar and cinnamon and to frost when cool. No mention is made in the recipe for amounts of soft butter, cinnamon, brown sugar or even what kind of icing. But the basics are there so thought I would try it out and let you know if it is as good as what I remember from my youth when we visited the grandma at the other end of the Island.

I say, "the Island" because even though the ferry from Anacortes stopped at Lopez Island and Shaw Island on the way and Friday Harbor (on San Juan Island) and sometimes Sidney (on the International run) after, we only visited Orcas Island. As I've mentioned in another post, my parents lived there when I was born but just a couple years later, in April of 1942, we moved to the Seattle area and visited on occasion until we moved back in August of 1947. It was always "the Island" whether we were visiting in those days, going back after a trip to town when we lived there, or just for a visit later in life.

Grandma and Grandpa McNallie, my mother's parents, lived on a farm toward the west end between Orcas and Eastsound and Grandma and Grandpa Rodenberger, my father's parents, lived near the east end close to Olga on the road that led eventually to Doe Bay.

To visit Grandma Rodenberger we would drive from the McNallie farm down along the east side of Crow Valley; around Fowler's Corner (old Man Fowler was the only farmer on the Island still using horses to farm at that time); through the village of Eastsound past Outlook Inn, Roger Purdue's garage, the two churches and Templin's General Store; up over the hill then around Crescent Beach with its little vacation cottages and hollyhocks galore. We'd follow the road along the east side of East Sound past the old King Place, up Flaherty's Hill, past the the Old Flaherty place (mother's in-laws) and the road leading to Rosario and on through Moran State Park, down O'Neil's Hill past the old cannery building (now a souvenir store/restaurant) turn before going into Olga, drive down the little hill, around Buck Bay and there above us, nestled in the little valley, was the old Doak Place where Grandma Rodenberger lived.

As I say, I call her Grandma. Some of my readers may call her Great-Grandma, some may call her Grandma Braids, some may call her Great-Great-Grandma and a couple still around would call her mother.

My first memories of Grandma and Grandpa Rodenberger's place include Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob, both still living at home, and it was a cozy place heated by a wood burning kitchen stove and fireplace. Come to think of it there wasn't much else to heat with in those days and a man who didn't get in his firewood would be hungry and cold in the winter.

Out behind the main house next to the woodshed there was an old cider press that fascinated me and caused me to do some early pondering of screws and levers and mechanical advantage. In the cellar Grandpa R. kept apples in barrels. I remember being asked to go down and bring back a couple of good Kings (what we call Thompson King apples today) and Grandpa would sit in front of the fireplace, peel an apple with his pocket knife and smilingly say, "wonder what the poor folks are doing tonight."

Grandma R. reigned in the kitchen and I fondly remember her cinnamon twists and cinnamon rolls. Sometimes when we visited (if there was a convenient low tide) we would walk out to the rock and dig clams for a a mess of steamers and homemade bread. Or maybe we would have fried clams or a good clam chowder. Other times we might have some venison, fresh or canned. There had been seven children in the family so Grandma was an expert when it came to putting food on the table.

During the early forties Grandpa Rodenberger was finished with the strawberry business but I remember the old trucks with "G. H. Rodenberger & Sons" painted on the doors like ghosts waiting to make one more run to Bellingham or Portland with strawberry plants. He used to like to drive Packard cars and usually had a newer model. Riding in a Packard was different from the ride we experience today in even the most luxurious cars.

It was during this period I remember Uncle Bob getting "blood poisoning" from a cut on his hand while he was processing tulip or dahlia bulbs for Grandpa R.'s latest endeavor. In those days before sulfa drugs, antibiotics and other miracle drugs, people could and did die from blood poisoning. The treatment of choice was usually nothing more than a poultice and if worst came to worst, amputation to stop the spread of the infection. Fortunately Uncle Bob recovered and went on to a full life.

After visiting with the relatives at that end of the Island we'd head back to Grandma McNallie's place. But that's a tale for another time.

So, how did the cinnamon twists come out, you want to know. Well, as it turned out, we didn't have any sour cream so I'll try the recipe later and let you know if they are as good as what I remember from those days of long ago.