On Sunday, my nephew asked me for my bourbon ball recipe. Not one from the Gourmet Cookie Book -- one of those recipes I haven't gotten around to -- but the one I make for Christmas brunch, and other cold-weather parties to get us all through the winter. My recipe comes from a 1970's yellowed 3 X 5 card. Typed on an actual typewriter. My mom found the "Coconut Rum Balls" recipe somewhere, set me to typing the recipe for her card file, then set me to making them. I kept making them. One year, we were out of rum and I'd tasted a friend's bourbon balls (in the '70's these things were everywhere), so I used bourbon and never looked back. Bourbon Balls 2 cups finely crushed chocolate waters 1 cup sifted powdered sugar, more for rolling 1 cup finely chopped pecans 1/4 cup light corn syrup 1/4 cup bourbon Combine all ingredients. With hands -- and this is the fun part so no fair using a spoon -- mix until all ingredients are well combined. The mixt
One hundred years ago today, my mom was born in Oakland, California. I had hoped I'd be celebrating with her this weekend, but she didn't quite make it to her hundredth birthday. She died in April, and I poured myself into a research project ever since, giving me time with the familiar before turning to the business of grief. I haven't completely ignored the grieving process. After a healing memorial gathering surrounded by friends and relatives, my family loaded a U-haul truck to bring home Mom's small but prized collection of antiques. I have found places in my home for Victorian cranberry glass, Dresden porcelain and marble-top tables, but boxes remain in my garage, filled with memories and emotions to work through. I find the grieving process gave me enough energy to meet tight research deadlines, but not enough energy to do what gives me joy. Only when the research project was done have I returned to my mixing bowls and made my first batch of cookies for friend