RAISE A CUPCAKE today to Laura Ingalls Wilder, memoirist and chronicler extraordinaire. Her Little House books were a staple of my childhood (and probably yours) and, I’m pleased to report, my own little Rock and River love her, too, giving me license to continue to indulge my Ingalls fixation well into adulthood. Though Laura has no living direct descendants, I think it’s not too hyperbolic to say that she’s a part of every family who ever read her tale–and that’s a lot of us. So, wish a happy birthday to Sister Laura, and be sure to read all about The Little House Cookbook!)

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WITH ALL THE TALK here on TSP about hand-me-down recipes (some good, some, well, terrifying) I realized I hardly have any from my own family. To make up for the absence of ones to call ours, my kids and I are trying some pioneer recipes, ones straight out of our bedtime stories. An unorthodox place to look for culinary inspiration? Perhaps. But not as crazy as it might seem.

About a month ago, I bought the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder, to read to my kids. After getting over my initial disappointment (how dare the publisher change the covers from the iconic pale yellow of my childhood?!) the three of us dug into the story of Laura, Mary, and a simpler, harder life than most of us can even begin to imagine.

Somewhat to my surprise, both kids love these books (we’re now into number two, Little House on the Prairie) and beg for me to read them every night. The River is into history, so he parses every single detail of the building of houses, the butchering of pigs, the possible sightings of Indians in the distance. The Rock, girly to the core, is curious about Laura’s treasured doll, Charlotte, and interested in how a little sister with a big sister gets treated (versus, say, a little sister with a big brother). She’s also partial to any and all information about Pet and Patty, the loyal horses who pulled the Ingalls’ covered wagon out of the Big Woods and onto the Prairie. Both children (and their mother) marvel at the girls’ unwavering obedience to their parents’ rules.

Both kids have eaten up (sorry, couldn’t resist) the tales of pioneer cooking: the candy made from drizzling hot maple syrup onto snow; the johnnycakes cooked over the open fire; the crackly-crunch pig’s tale. So when a fellow Twitterer (you are on Twitter, aren’t you??), talented food writer Merrill Stubbs, mentioned that there’s a Little House cookbook, I had to have it.

Merrill recommends the Little House doughnuts, so that’s going to be our first attempt at 19th century pioneer cuisine.

Do you have family-recipe traditions that predate your or your parents’ generation? Anastasia kindly served up her grandmother’s tripe (oh my) and Marion’s threatened to share her mother-in-law’s spam chop suey (yikes)–can anyone else offer anything more appetizing? There’s a barbecue sauce I grew up eating on ribs. It originated in my father’s father’s house, and that’s all I can say. I am sworn to secrecy when it comes to the elixir known in the Smith family as “David’s Sweet Sauce.”

My mom has passed along a couple of favorites, but she’s more likely to bake us a pie than write down the recipe for it (not that I’m complaining). But that’s about it: Further back, I don’t know my culinary history, so why not make some doughnuts?

Doughnuts, from The Little House Cookbook by Barbara M. Walker (Harper Collins, 1989)

Merrill suggested sprinkling some of these with a cinnamon sugar mixture, which sounds like a winner to me!

For 2 dozen doughnuts you will need:

2 pounds lard (I will probably substitute peanut oil, my choice for frying)
1 egg
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup sour cream
2¼ cups of unbleached all-purpose flour
a shaker full of powdered sugar

quart kettle
quart bowl
rolling pin
candy thermometer

Melt the lard in kettle over low heat. Beat egg, baking soda, and salt into the sour cream in the bowl. Beat in 1 cup of flour until well mixed. Continue to work in flour, ¼ cup at a time, until you have a dough that can be rolled. Roll the dough in a strip about 4 by 16 by ¼ inches. With a floured knife cut into inch strips about five eighth inch wide.

Heat the lard to 375 degrees F. Twist a strip like a corkscrew (it will stretch as you do); bring ends together and pinch them. Drop twisted dough in hot fat. In 2 minutes the dough should be brown on both sides, crisp and cooked through. If browning takes more than 3 minutes, the fat is not hot enough; if browning takes less time, the fat is too hot.

Remove cooked doughnut to brown paper to drain and coat it with powdered sugar.  Continue twisting and cooking the remaining dough strips.  Serve the doughnuts immediately.

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