Sossie beile's little cherry crumb bars
Alcoholic beverages
Growing up, it sometimes seemed as if my sisters and I were the only kids around without a grandma. Grandmothers were everywhere: visiting our friends at holiday time, taking children to movies, baking cookies for them. Not us. In my only picture of our grandmother, my mother -- a wide-eyed little girl -- sits beside her, my mother's hair plaited in two neat, thick little braids, wearing her best dress and a hand-crocheted collar. Next to her sits my grandmother, her soft brown eyes with a faraway look in them. My mother was about seven when she and Grampa lost her. They were living in a forced-labor camp under Nazi occupation when she became ill. She was loved and missed by all who knew her. <br /> <br />I grew up eating these buttery, crumbly bars, never suspecting their origin. So when I called my mother for the recipe, and to double-check its source (Betty Crocker? her best friend?), I was surprised and moved to learn that it was my grandmother's -- not that my mother knew the measurements or amounts. She says she watched her mother make them time and again as a very little girl. After my mother (and Grampa) finally escaped and came to this country to start a new life, my mother married and had a family. She reconstructed the recipe from her childhood memory. I'm so happy to have just one "handed down" recipe and to share it here.
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