Church Cookbooks

Yesterday was a potluck at church--a celebration for Reformation Sunday, new members, and some recently married couples all rolled into one.

Have I mentioned that I love potluck?  And church potlucks are my favorite.

I have fond recollections of dinners from my childhood in the Beech Wing Fellowship Hall with its grey asbestos tile floors and the cold, testy, noisy folding chairs.  I remember the church family of my childhood in part through the dishes they could be depended upon to bring to potluck.  Dishes that even seemed exotic to me (deviled eggs, casseroles with corn chips on top, and homemade baked beans).

Okay, so my childhood definition of exotic is weak, but I still look forward to sharing other people's cooking at church potluck.  It helps that our congregation now has at least four or five folks who can be relied upon to bring homemade baked beans--and they're all good.

And when it's my turn to think of what to prepare for potluck, I consider what I have on hand (since the project seems counter to actually buying special ingredients for some reason) and what might be both like enough and different enough to find some space on the communal folding table.

For this potluck, I turned to one of my church cookbooks--an archive of church potlucks, if you will.  This one, in particular, is my favorite: a treasure from Grandma B.'s church.  It's a second edition, with the 1967 recipes included among the 1992 recipes.  My copy is also amended by Grandma B. to include a few more recipes particular to the family that weren't included for the congregation.  I love paging through to find the ones she included--some I wasn't even familiar with--and I also love recognizing the familiar names of her good friends.  She and Grandpa B. missed being charter members of that congregation by only a matter of months, Dad told me, and she was a faithful and active there for the rest of her life.

One of my favorites out of this particular cookbook has none of the sentimental attachments of family or friendships.  It's a 1992 recipe submitted by a family whose name I don't recognize.  It has become one of my staples, both for potlucks and for other occasions, though; it's also a handy recipe for a dessert that doesn't require eggs.  (Yes, I have a few cookie and bar recipes filed away that fill in otherwise hard-to-fill requirements that occasionally arise.  For example, this is also one that can be made vegan by substituting margarine for the butter.)

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Oatmeal Jam Bars

1 C. butter, melted
1 C. brown sugar, packed
1 1/2 C. flour
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
3 C. oatmeal

Combine butter and brown sugar, thoroughly mix in dry ingredients, and combine oatmeal until thoroughly incorporated.  Press 2/3 of the mixture in a greased 9x13 pan, top with  5 oz. of jam (strawberry is usually what I have on hand, but apricot is also quite good) whisked with 1/4 C. warm water, and crumble the remaining oatmeal mixture over the top.  Bake at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes, until thoroughly browned.  Cool thoroughly before cutting, otherwise the bars tend to crumble.