Esther's

[Editor note:  After Glenn Hoplin's remembrances of 304 Drury Ave in the 20's and 30's, I return to 1957 for a look at the same address from the next generation's perspective - the grandchildren. The “Grandma’s house” stories in this episode are a compendium of Hoplin grandchildren memories]

A grandfather's lament. Why is it always “Grandma’s House”?  Let’s go to Grandma’s house!  Poor Grandpa, hardly noticed.

In 1957,  I had the unrecognized privilege of living practically across the street from my grandmother - and grandfather.  Ole was pretty much always working, but then again, so was Esther, but she seemed so much more productive to that 10 year old, making doughnuts, cookies, baking bread, cooking delicious meals.  

Many of my memories of 304 Drury Avenue get to my brain through the nose.  The house always had wonderful aromas emanating from that big kitchen. In my memory, grandma was always in the kitchen, a kitchen with 4 entryways.  The kitchen had a huge picture window looking across the fields to the east and the Soo Line tracks beyond highway 55. Grandchildren loved to sit by the kitchen table, eat cookies and milk and wait for the noon freight and counting the cars. Sometimes it was 3.

Esther was a wonderful baker - breads, cookies of all kinds (date filled, ginger, sugar cookies, mint frosted chocolate, elephant ears), Scandinavian delicacies - krumkake, rosettes, flatbread, and the best lefse this side of Spring Grove, together with the ever present egg-coffee steaming in a glass Pyrex pot on the stove.  The entry-way on the north served as a pantry and the shelf in that space was stacked high with cookie tins, angel food cake containers and numerous pans of goodies.

But Esther’s signature item was her fantastic doughnuts which she put on a broomstick and handed out at Halloween - a must stop on the trick-or-treat rounds. Her doughnut secret was to take the doughnut out of the hot oil and dunk it in boiling water.  This removed excess oil and made Esther’s doughnuts better than any other. An added bonus, the hot water with the doughnut grease made excellent soup stock. Some would use additives, like rolling them in sugar or dunking them in coffee, but I preferred them neat.

In the 20’s, Esther had up to 12 people to feed daily - husband, father, father-in-law, 7 children, brother, and at least 9 through the 30’s until the nest began to empty in 1936.  And herself of course, although often she would not take time to sit down and eat, just downing a raw egg on the run.

I suppose it was not as often as I think I remember, but it seemed nearly every Sunday dinner during summer was at Esther’s.  The long dining room table was filled with local (I grudgingly include Brandon & Glenwood as “local”) family and frequently sons and daughters and their families from the Twin Cities or North Dakota.  Ole’s Brandon siblings made rare appearances, but Esther had brothers and cousins in Lowry, Alexandria, Fergus Falls and Kenora who appeared occasionally and were welcomed with open arms. (Esther was the only daughter in the Carl Nelson family - sister Ida died at age 2). And in the early 50’s the Latvian displaced persons (Anna “Ooma”, Angie & Julius Jegers, Vera Gailitis & Albert Vigants) were often at the Sunday feasts - they called Esther “mother”. The dining room had the necessary long table and 3 curved glass cabinets to hold the Fostoria glassware - and a big oak hutch to hold the good dishes.

The house itself was a unique design in Lowry. To me it looked like a barn.  Seemed weird until later in life I visited Sweden and saw many houses that looked like Ole & Esther’s.  The focal point of the house was the kitchen, but the dining room/living room ran the entire length of the house on the west side.  This was intentional, designed to facilitate funeral services.  It was a house endlessly interesting to explore - except for Uncle Dave’s room, which was off limits. (However, when my wife & I lived in that house in 1972 with Uncle Dave - Ole & Esther having moved to the Glenwood Retirement Home - our son Matt (age 2) had the run of Dave’s room, Dave calling him “Little Paulie”) And the south bedroom was still referred to as Grandpa Carl's room although he died in 1938.  

From the top down, there were interesting places to explore in that house.  There were 4 bedrooms on the upper level and an attic with a stairway on springs that could be pulled down from the ceiling.  I didn’t get up there often, but there were trunks of stuff up there and a WWI spiked German helmet! The basement was a little creepy with a separate entrance,  a cistern and a enameled table that looked like it should be in a morgue.

There was also a clothes chute in the upstairs hallway that tempted a young cousin to take a direct route to the basement - ending up stuck.  He may still be there.  And there was a unique clothes drying system. A wire clothes line was strung from a pole at the far east point of the lot to a pulley mounted by the back door.  You simply hung your wet clothing on the line and moved the line around the pulley - never having to move from your spot. Ingenious. And then there was this contraption that sat in the kitchen next to the entry to the dining room that looked like something from a horror movie - a "Mangler". (there is such a movie - look it up). It was used for ironing clothes and linens. Most of the sheets had large brown burn marks, but it was fast.

The driveway made a half loop around the house and was bordered with bowling ball sized whitewashed rocks.  Perhaps an idea brought home from the war, where military bases used this device to keep the troops busy endlessly painting rocks.  A grandson got rock painting duty occasionally.  Ole had DeSotos, until they went out of business, which he parked by the back door.  Uncle Dave's black Buick was parked in the front.

Apple trees lined the border to the north with Robiesons. The field of view to the east was open clear to the Soo Line tracks across 55.  The North Dakota flatlander cousins loved that "big hill" below the house.

A place chocked full of great memories.

And a bonus for you

Just so no one can claim that there is nothing of value in this episode, I include something precious: Grandma Esther’s donut recipe.

Esther was famous in Lowry for dressing up as a witch on Halloween and dispensing donuts from a broom handle. She saw every kid’s costume every year – some of us more than once. I suspect she’d get a visit from the Pope County sheriff these days.

Step 1: Assemble the equipment. Purchase a good quality mixer - Kitchenaid makes a nice one ($300); a deep fryer ($100); a donut maker ($30); a good quality exhaust fan ($2000 installed – you might do without it but you will smell donut grease for 6 weeks and in 6 weeks you will crave donuts again. This is known in my trade as an infinite loop). You should only need to do step 1 once or twice in a lifetime.

Step 2. Assemble the ingredients.

3 well beaten eggs  [Farm fresh brown eggs of course.]

2 c. white sugar

1 c. sweet milk [X-Gen translation = 1⁄2 & 1⁄2]

1 c. sour cream

1 t. salt

2 t. baking powder

1 t. soda

6 crushed cardamom seeds [This if you want authentic, but, personally, no thanks. Esther made some with and some without.]

2 t. vanilla [From Axel Erickson, the Watkin’s man. During prohibition, this was in very short supply due to its use in stills.]

5 c. flour [Better if 2 of the 5 are cake flour]

1 t. cinnamon 

1 t. nutmeg

Texture is everything. 2 of the 5 c. should be cake flour if you want it right. Ofcourse, Esther did not have this, but I think she sifted the bee-jeesus out of it. (She wouldn’t approve of my language, BTW)

Step 3. Execute to plan. This recipe involves scalding hot oil and boiling water so it must be performed by a responsible adult. This eliminates most people so I am wondering why I'm bothering.

Put the dough in the ice box over night. You can handle it with less flour that way. When each donut is cooked, have a pan of boiling water beside and plunge each one into it (Editor’s note: use a tongs) and drain on paper toweling. This takes care of any grease left on them and the shortening from the water is very good and flavorful for cookies.

Step 4: Cleanup. Hmm, what to do with that donut grease? Stash it in the cistern for reuse in 6 weeks. Throw away your cooking clothes.

Step 5: Consumption. I suspect you will squirrel away your own private stock somewhere, to be found appropriately on St. Patrick’s Day dressed in green - assuming you have any left after the execute step.