Stove of my Dreams

I had a dream last night about antique wood stoves.  It was a weird dream, but got me searching all day on the internet for the stove I chose out in my dream.  I finally found a similar one at The Love Barn in Maine:

Antique wood stove as found at Love Barn

Isn't it lovely?  I dreamed it in green, but cast iron black will do.  This other one from Victorian Fireplace Shop is simpler, but equally beautiful.   I don't think you can bake on these stoves, but I would like one anyway.

Antique Wood Stove from Victorian Fireplace Shop

Hello

Vó, my little sister Nina and I

Some of my most treasured memories are of my grandmother, whom I called "Vó", which means "Grandma" in Portuguese.

Vó was a force to be reckoned with- tough, Italian and with a tongue that would stun sailors.  She was awesome. 

Since moving to Canada from Brazil 22 years ago with my parents and sisters, I've been down to see her at least once every couple of years. 

    

Last year I decided to take a couple months off from working to go down and spend time with her.  While I was there, she had a stroke, and after 5 very hard months, she passed away.  I was with her every day and I'm extremely grateful for that time I was able to spend with her.

Of the few mementos I brought back with me, her handwritten recipe notebooks are my most treasured. 

These notebooks are chock full of her favourite recipes, as well as friends' and ones she found in magazines.  There are also small notes or scrap paper from years back where she jotted down recipes she must have been told about and wanted to remember, while others have to-do lists on them she used as bookmarks.  My plan is to digitize all the recipes to be able to share them with her friends and family.  

I don't say this because she was my grandmother, but because it is a fact: she made the best food I have ever eaten.  She grew up with her grandmother and aunts who taught her to cook and bake, and due to the nature of Brazil's colonial past, this included traditional Brazilian, Italian and German dishes, as well as a delicious blend of them all.    

When I told my parents I had her notebooks, they both started asking for recipes she never shared with them.

My mother specifically asked for a coconut cake recipe she and my grandmother had finagled out of a bakery owner.  Vó claimed my "Gringa" mother loved the cake and was moving to Canada so wouldn't be able to buy it any longer. After begging for some time, the lady agreed, wrote out the recipe and handed it to Vó, who promised to give it to mom once she wrote it out, but never did.  

Every time my mom saw her, she always asked for that recipe.  There were some secrets my Vó wanted to keep for herself, which exasperated relatives, but makes me smile.  I have yet to look through all the recipes, but once I find it, I'll give it to my mom...eventually. 

So, I dedicate this blog to Vó: grandmother, second mother, Godmother and kindred spirit.  I miss her tremendously every day, but hope that by sharing her recipes, I can remember some of the best parts of her and my favourite memories.