Beautiful, Timeless, and Well Made — A Conversation with Fount

This conversation with FOUNT co-founder Jackie Wachter originally ran in Where Women Create

JACKIE WACHTER and her husband Phillip, are the creators and owners of FOUNT Leather of Cleveland, Ohio. FOUNT produces an ethically-produced high-quality line of leather goods, which has allowed them to support and enrich their local community. When Jackie and Phillip are not in their studio, they are taking care of their two beautiful kids and managing their two retail locations.

I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, and according to my mother, I was a creative person straight out of the womb. My family fostered my creativity. I have my grandmother to thank for teaching me to sew when I was seven or eight- years-old—she was a very special person in my life. When I was younger, I used to daydream about potential craft projects at school. Often, I would get off my school bus with a list of supplies and have my mom take me straight to JoAnn Fabrics.

In 7th grade, I started my first business out of my locker. I loved to make macramé hemp jewelry, and my friends started to ask for their own. Soon, the girls from my classes were coming to me with requests for their own brace- lets. By demand, I would talk to my clients, sketch designs, and then go home to create their jewelry. I sold the bracelets for $12 each and was selling several a week. Unfortunately, my venture garnered the attention of the faculty, and after about a year of business and a trip to the principal’s office, I had to close up shop.

LOOKING BACK, I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN SOMEONE WHO LOVES TO WORK WITH MY HANDS.

After high school, I attended the Virginia Marti College of Art & Design and pursued a degree in fashion. While there, I was allowed to hone the skills taught to me by my family and channel them into something I was very passionate about. This was still many years though before I met my husband, Phillip, and we started FOUNT together. After college, I moved to New York for a while, but I found myself missing something. I was very lonely there, and I craved the Midwest charm I’d always known. I was seeking purpose, and after a six-month activist trip to Africa became passionate about becoming involved with my community and supporting local and ethical work. This experience allowed me to get a better view into what I could eventually create through my craft and passion.

A few years ago, all of the stars seemed to align. I met my husband, Phillip, and he became someone who inspired and motivated me daily to be creative. He is also someone who enjoys crafting with his own hands, and like me, had his own schoolyard business (selling homemade beanie babies). In our first year of dating, we decided that we would make all of our gifts for each other. Phillip made me a pair of wool mittens using a vintage Pendleton coat, as well as a cutting board. I made for him a wool pencil case, laptop sleeve, and journal. After looking at our gifts, Phillip suggested that the sewn goods could be beautifully made out of leather, and I agreed. We sought out leather and found a local cobbler that sold scraps from his hides of leather. We bought our first leather, and the sweet older couple taught us about some of the hand tools and techniques we should use.

Our first product trials were a leather wallet and lucky penny pouch. Phillip and I quickly fell in love with our newfound hobby, and after a little trial-and-error, we started to make more leather goods. At the time, I was selling vintage clothing and goods at our local market; slowly we started to introduce a small table of our leather goods alongside it. It was at one of these markets that the mother-in-law of my friend Nikki said we should start trying to design a purse. She wanted a bag for Nikki for Christmas and suggested that I give it a try. Soon after, during church, I sketched a design, showed her, and she said she would help us buy our first sewing machine to get us started. After finding a listing for a Singer 111 on Craigslist, we went to test it out. It had been used to stitch WWII parachutes, and it ended up being the sewing machine we used for our first six months of business as FOUNT.

Our first great bag was created after many discussions about what every woman would want. It quickly became apparent that our best chance would be a tote. The first produced tote though was designed in our first apartment together on Bellfield Avenue, in a tiny studio that was ten-by-ten feet. The Bellfield Tote was designed to be a durable everyday bag for anyone. This tote is now our number one seller and is currently available in three sizes. It’s gone through many small transformations, like adding two pockets and straps that are designed to be unbreakable.

OUR MISSION has been, from the beginning, that we want to make products that are beautiful, timeless, and well made—enough to last a lifetime while also being made ethically.

From that simple beginning, we have now grown our husband-and- wife business to a team of forty-six employees. It has been a wonderful four- year journey, and I am so happy that we have been able to create a thriving community within and around it.

Today, after years of hard work and leaps of faith, FOUNT has not just one, but two retail locations—as well as our studio where we manufacture. Growing up, my parents had a wire manufacturing business in the United States, and as production in our country started to move over- seas, it saddened them to have to move some of those jobs out of the

U.S.A. in order to survive in their industry. When we started FOUNT, I wanted it to be able to stimulate my local economy by making all of our products here in the United States. Today, we are happy to say that we have been able to do that by supporting our forty-six employees, as well as supporting local printers, graphic designers, packaging companies, web developers, photographers, models, etc.

FOUNT is a direct-to-consumer business, so we don’t have a face in the consumer market and boutiques. This can be a challenge, but until recently, we have regularly marketed ourselves by attending maker shows. We take pride in making a high-quality product, and word of mouth is our best type of marketing. In every bag, we place a little pouch filled with a couple of business cards that asks our new friends to share our message when people love their bag. It’s a very simple marketing solution, but FOUNT has had a lot of success because of it. We recently had an event in our Cleveland store, and a lady pulled out three business cards and approached me. “I work for Apple, and I can’t tell you how many times I have complimented your bags, but after getting several of these business cards I had to come to see what you were all about,” she said.

Aside from opening our two retail locations—in a time when people say brick-and-mortar is dead—one of the greatest accomplishments we have had has been our success in building inventory. When we first started, we were making each bag by hand, one-by-one. Now, we do batches by type of hide or pattern. We were part of a television show that helped business-owners with their models, and one constant piece of advice we were getting was that our website was always sold out. We learned that we needed to take a leap of faith, bought a ton of leather, hired nine new employees and built our first inventory. It was a great success and having a product on hand that a potential customer wanted has allowed us to grow our business further. We now offer handbags, as well as, clutches, wristlets, wallets and other leather accessories.

Every day with FOUNT seems to fly by. It’s very rewarding, and a lot of work, but getting to work with artists and artisans to create and share products makes it all worth it. We have three new designs coming soon and are planning to create more elevated designs that can be formal as well. Through this business, I’ve been able to do something impactful, both in my community and across the world—like our partnership which brought over ten thousand dollars to dig wells in Africa and provide clean water. Being able to share our products with the world and see the positive impact they bring to our families, friends, and community makes every minute of this business worth it.

— www.fountleather.com

Easy Banana Pudding

This one is an absolute favorite and classic. Super easy to maker and so darn cute in these sweet canning jars. 

Easy Banana Pudding

• 2 5 ounce packages of instant vanilla pudding mix

• 4 cups of very cold milk

• 4 ripe bananas

• 1 box vanilla waffers

• 1 quart heavy whipping cream

• 2 tsp vanilla

• 1/4 powdered sugar

Mix pudding mix and milk as instructed on box. Set aside. Slice bananas. Beat heavy whipping cream, vanilla, and powdered sugar until whipped cream is desired thickness. 

Starting with waffers, cut or break as necessary to fit into jar, create layers. Alternate between the waffers, the pudding, the sliced bananas, and the whipped cream until jars are full. Finish with a a spot of whipped cream and a banana slice tucked into the top. Garnish with fresh mint if desired. 

Use lids of jars for the perfect beach or picnic treat. Keep cold until serving.  

Old Fashioned Orange Juice Cake

Orange Juice Cake

This recipe was a staple for every church potluck, funeral dinner, or just a go-to everyday cake. It’s super moist like pound cake.

1 box yellow cake mix

1 box instant vanilla pudding

4 eggs

½ cup vegetable oil

1 cup orange juice

¼ cup brown sugar 

¼ cup pecans, chopped

GLAZE

½ cup butter

1 cup sugar

¼ cup orange juice

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Mix cake mix, pudding mix, eggs, oil, and orange juice together. 

2. Grease Bundt pan. Spread brown sugar and chopped nuts in the bottom. 

3. Pour batter in pan; bake 35–40 minutes. 

4. For glaze, melt butter in saucepan, add sugar, orange juice; bring to boil, stirring constantly. 

5. After removing cake from oven, pour glaze on cake; cool 15–20 minutes; then invert onto plate.

Snow Had Fallen

An Essay by Linda Burgess

As winter gives way to spring, I must share one snow story that about a late winter/early spring snow when I was probably no older than five…if that.

Our farm lay less than a quarter mile from the main highway. The one lane, gravel road that led to our house was lined with huge trees (mostly cedar) that gave the appearance of a tunnel. Though good for shade and a cool walk in summer, they sheltered the road from needed sunshine for melting snow in late winter or early spring. 

The later in the season it seemed the deeper the snow accumulated. At the time I had no idea what adults meant when they said it was a wet snow. To a little girl, snow was snow. When I played out in the snow, I always ended up wet from head to toe so I didn’t understand that “wet snow” comment. Now that I’m an adult (really just an overgrown kid), I understand moisture content, humidity, powder snow and packing, or snowman building, snow. 

It seems we had deeper and more frequent snows when I was a little girl. I’m not going down the global warming path. I was short for my age (which is hard to believe being 5’ 8” now) and I know that the snow probably wasn’t that much deeper than what we have today. It just didn’t take much for it to be deep for my short legs. Playing in the snow was terrific fun! I didn’t mind the required layers of clothes or getting wet as the snow melted on my gloves and outer layers. That’s what snow was all about for me!

Just as I didn’t understand the term “wet snow” I didn’t realize the hard work of shoveling snow or the hazards of driving snow-covered roads. Mom did. She knew Dad had about 70miles, round trip, of slick 2 lane roads to travel to/from the steel mill. I remember watching him drive out that long tunnel-looking road headed to Owensboro for his shift at the mill. On snowy days or nights, depending upon which shift he worked, I would watch till I couldn’t see him or his tail lights and marvel at the cloud of snow that swirled up behind his vehicle. He probably was driving a little faster than normal just to keep the momentum needed to overcome the snow banks. 

One day, the six of us had all been to either Louisville or Lexington (possibly both) to visit our grandparents. As we traveled home, snow began to fall as did night. There were no salt trucks or pre-treating the roads with brine solution in those days. What snow removal equipment available only worked the most traveled roads so neither the highway in/out of Centertown nor certainly not our road were cleared for traffic. So, on this particularly cold night, an unexpected snowstorm settled in over our part of Kentucky. 

State route 69 from Hartford to Centertown, a curvy stretch of 7 miles to our road, also had 6 one lane bridges. The biggest and narrowest spanned “Muddy Creek”, a creek that fed off Rough River. Dad carefully negotiated those treacherous miles and one lane bridges then made the turn of the main highway onto our road (now known as Chandle Loop) and, within 100 feet, into a snowdrift. We were stuck. He tried backing up, pulling forward, backing up and pulling forward with only minimal success. The snow formed a barrier that our Chevy couldn’t penetrate. Dad got out and pushed as Mom steered the car. In the fall, I had walked that stretch of road from the house to the highway to greet my brother and sister when they got off the school bus. I didn’t think it was very long at all, but on that snowy night, it seemed to stretch to the end of the earth. I just knew we would have to walk home in all that snow, in the dark and without our boots. I saw an adventure in my future but I sure didn’t like the idea of not having boots for that adventure. 

Dad finally got back in the car to warm up a bit. He told us to sit tight and he’d be back in just a few minutes. He knew he would have to dig the car out of the snow so he set off for the house while we waited. Of course he went for a shovel and we expected to see him and his flashlight coming back for us. What we didn’t expect was the mode of transportation. He came back riding our trusty mare, Bonnie. I didn’t have to walk the endless pike in the dark with snow up to my ears and without boots. Dad hoisted his 4 children onto the bare back of that gentle soul and sent us to the house, my big brother in command sitting in front, my sister at the back and the other 2 of us sandwiched between them. 

As gentle as that horse was, she balked at every bridge and that posed a problem. To get to the house, you had to cross a bridge over a branch of Walton Creek. Sure enough, we reached that bridge and Bonnie stopped. She had been so good with the 4 of us perched on her back but when she got to that bridge, she had reached the end of her journey. She could have gone down the short bank and crossed the creek as always but she didn’t want to do that either. She deserves credit for not endangering us. She could have slipped or jumped or bucked and lost her passengers but she stood still. 

We sat huddled on the horse while Dad dug and Mom maneuvered. It wasn’t long till the sound of spinning wheels turned to a more normal tone, its lights came into view and Mom and Dad came to our rescue. Dad lifted Mark, Janet and I off the horse and put us back in the car. He sent Ronnie on to the barn with the horse. I guess that’s one time Ronnie was less than happy to be the oldest but he was able to get Bonnie across the creek (not the bridge!) and on to the gate of the horse lot where he released her and sent her kicking snow all the way to the barn. It was a short car ride for us to the house…again about 100 feet. 

Dad’s work was not finished for the night. We had been gone for the bigger part of 2 days. We heated with a Stokermatic stove. The fire burned out with no one home to feed the coal into the hopper so the house was cold but not so cold that the water lines froze. Thank goodness for that! Dad cleaned out the firebox while Ronnie carried in a couple of buckets of coal to get the fire started. While they worked on restoring the heat, Mom started cooking and Janet, Mark and I huddled up on the couch to stay warm. 

Traditionally, when we returned from a weekend visit with grandparents, Mom cooked breakfast. That night was no exception. By the time the Stokermatic started blowing warm air, Mom served bacon, eggs, biscuits (homemade, of course) and gravy. She perked (old school, not brewed) a pot of coffee for her and Dad but had hot chocolate for the 4 of us. Warm and well-fed, we headed to bed. 

Dad didn’t have a lot of weekends off with working swing shift. Usually he had farm work to do on his days off but he did manage to make time for visiting his and Mom’s parents and giving us treasured time with our grandparents. I’m sure that he probably didn’t make it into bed until way past midnight that night and had to get up earlier than normal for his trip to work the next morning due to the road conditions.  Only as an adult can I now fully appreciate the struggles and worries Mom and Dad endured that night. I was a 5 year old adventure seeking little girl who thought it was another of her adventures rather than a trial. 

Breakfast for supper still reminds me of that snowy adventure in late winter…long, long ago. 

Victory Garden of Tomorrow

IN A TIME WHEN PINEAPPLES, GUAVA, AND ASPARAGUS ARE AVAILABLE YEAR ROUND AND NEARLY ANY FOOD IS STOCKED ON THE SHELVES OF MOST GROCERIES, JOE WIRTHEIM OF VICTORY GARDEN OF TOMORROW WANTS TO FURTHER EXPAND YOUR SELECTION.

If you want fancy French lettuces that your local market does not carry or heirloom blue pumpkins from Australia, he wants you to have it. The one caveat Joe has is that you grow it — on an organic farm. He also wants you to make compost, and to have a few backyard chickens.

BY: DAVID GOBELI | 2012

The Victory Garden of Tomorrow has its roots in Portland, Oregon, a city that has long been seen as a center of political and cultural activism, so a poster campaign that wants us to re-identify our eating habits is fitting. He hasn’t always been in Portland though; he moved there in the mid 2000’s from Columbus, Ohio.

Remembering Columbus, he says, “I was...one of the small group of people getting around on bicycles — I had no car at the time. I was living in a neighborhood that was a little out there in terms of low rents, and eccentric

In an age when most everything is available year round, Joe sees it as more of a perceived choice. Processed foods come at a very high price to our health, the environment, and in petroleum dollars. “Our entire food system is built on oil and corn subsidies. Today there’s no reason to believe these will last. To top it off, the industrial foods we’ve been eating are terrible for our health. Childhood obesity makes my ears turn red. I realize that in many ways, it’s difficult for an average middle-class person living the urban or suburban lifestyle today to see a reason to supplement their diet with a backyard garden. But that’s why I make propaganda, to insert the message that gardens need to become a normal part of what Americans do again; and even if the amount they produce is small, there occurs an important education and rise in awareness.”

Joe calls his propaganda campaign The Victory Garden of Tomorrow. He designs and prints art posters that
are based on the iconic American propaganda posters of both World War I and II. Using their style, and sometimes actual posters as inspiration, he has begun to create a new type of propaganda; this time it is about what we eat and where we get it.

artist types. I suppose being on a bike and being around a sensibility that is acutely aware of waste, the greater city seemed strange to me. I wondered why it was the way it was, why it was segregated, why
the suburbs were so popular, [and] why shopping centers were a thing to be excited about. Parking lots everywhere. I just felt that this wasn’t normal.” So, Joe left Columbus and moved to Portland, where bikers rode in crowds and morning rush hour traffic jams involved not only cars but cycles. In awe of the city and the old main street aesthetic that housed small community businesses, he enrolled at Portland State, the local university, where he met and has since had the chance to work with a variety of talent that he can draw inspiration from.

Then came The Victory Garden of Tomorrow, his self- described poster campaign that is “designed to channel the bold energy of historical poster propaganda. It is committed to civic innovation and social progress — better food, better gardens, and better cities. It is design, politics, and whimsy for the modern home front.” Drawing inspiration from the Victory Gardens of WWI and II and the 1939 New York World’s Fair (“The World of Tomorrow”) he developed the name of his campaign. “... like a lot of nerdy kids of my generation, I was enthralled with the idea of space exploration, loved the images and stories of moon landings, and just loved the idea of heroic, capable explorers. I imagined our mid-century economic era as a kind of fork in the road where America sort of chose the industrial path. However, the world of tomorrow could have been, and still can be, the path illustrated by the Victory Garden and waste-reduction movements.” He began to imagine the “Victory Garden of Tomorrow” as an “exciting new 21st century place of discovery, innovation, and excitement. A place where young people are needed to urgently man the gardens and consider creative, imaginative ways to solve contemporary problems.”

Then Joe designed atomic lettuces, atoms spinning around the leaves in mid-century simplicity; pickles
in space; and heroic chickens standing guard like B5-2 bombers over the airstrip. Taken out of the posters are airplane hangars, rockets, and industrial powerhouses pumping out wartime munitions. Common everyday backyard heroes now take their place. In his design about compost, a father and son peek into a compost bin watching the micro-organisms doing all the dirty work. Another, emblazoned with the words “Break New Ground,” calls to mind a soldier’s boot on the edge of a shovel digging a trench, but instead urges “Plant an Urban Farm Garden.” Even the flying bee in the poster’s background is reminiscent of a warplane, whimsically crafted into the modern, backyard air force.

Each piece calls to mind the strong imagery and text of the old propaganda posters. Bold, normally few colors, heavy strokes, and implied detail make every design speak with the same intensity as the originals. Joe loves the idea of “... turning the hero into something that is common, that is understated, and right in the backyard. To me, chickens, compost, [and] lettuce all speak to the idea that there’s more power in small and ordinary places. Our society has been all about industrial sized power moves, and I’m just thinking that the future might be a place that’s smaller scale, more human, er, chicken powered.”

A whopping 1.5 million people contract either e. coli or salmonella per year. Many of these cases involve large- scale industrial farming and crops that should never be exposed to those bacteria. Type 2 diabetes (which was once an adult disease but now is found in 1 of every 400 children), obesity, hypertension, heart disease, and cancer are all on the rise. It is thought that the current generation is the first generation that will have a shorter lifespan than their parents—the first time in American history. Our food plays a direct role in all of these diseases as well as our mental states and, it has been said, our general state of happiness. Millions of Americans are sick and the food they eat has a lot to blame for it and Joe Wirtheim is trying to do something about it.

“I believe that ... America needs a culture change around food and eating. People need to set examples for each other, begin discussing these things in their community, demand better foods from their grocers, demand variances for [egg-laying] hens from their municipalities, and so on. We need critical mass of demand before government programs are successful. I’d like to see more support for local farms and gardens, while seeing a reduction of government support for the industrial corn and soy based products. But to get the ball rolling, folks have to demonstrate this is something they want, not something imposed. That’s why I make the art I make; I want to charm while accessing people’s imaginations as to what is possible.”

SHOP

A Cast Iron Primer

The Little Black Dress of the Kitchen

By: Jen O’Connor of Earth Angels Studios

Cast iron is like one of those ancient species, so ideally suited to its environment, that its need to evolve was forgone forever ago. It is one of the most versatile objects in any kitchen and can be used for everything from frying the perfect egg to baking a cake. Cast iron can take the heat on stovetop or oven, transferring from one to the other with aplomb! So, if you have a cast iron skillet, you could use it, and it would keep coming back from more. It just doesn't wear out; indeed many of them in active service have been on duty for more than 100 years. So, if you have a cast iron skillet in your kitchen, and you are not pressing this dedicated workhorse into service, you should be wondering just why not?

Cooking is a learning process—an art form that constantly absorbs the new. So many cooks are forever on the prowl for the new gadget, the more convenient appliance or a utensil that will make some task easier. In the hunt for the new, there are those among us that might just be guilty of setting aside a three or four pound cast iron pot for something more lightweight or easier to store. In the era of super non-stick surfaces and the age of anodized aluminum, cast iron may have been overlooked for commercially promoted brands and sleeker lines of cookware promising efficient and specialized attributes.

But, like all truly beautiful things, cast iron feels no threat. It has no need to waver from its perfection, and that little skillet will wait in quiet confidence for renewed appreciation by the cook who decides to use it. Fortunately for cast iron and its devotees, there's been a recent celebration of its merits among those who pursue slow living. In its versatility and simple charms, it appeals to cooks who treasure its humble beauty. Cast iron is affordable and versatile…it’s practical and durable…and the art of slow living celebrates these qualities. Like the little black dress that hangs in your closet just perfect for any occasion, cast iron stands at the ready to save the day by simply doing what it does best…cook like nothing else in your kitchen! 

Cooks love cast iron for what it does for them with regard to handling temperature. It does not heat evenly, but once it's hot, it stays hot and will cook something evenly by retaining the heat more consistently. As such, cast iron lends itself to baking and was fashioned into inset ovens as well as the tightly lidded pot—or Dutch oven—that we picture baking biscuits over a campfire. Conversely, on the stovetop, cast iron sears meats in a way no other cookware can.

Origins of the Alloy….

Cast iron has been around forever…well, almost forever. There are archaeological finds that date cast iron to 400 AD in China where the alloy was first made and used in the production of agricultural tools, architectural ornaments and pagodas, and some weapons. The knowledge of this metallurgy production, along with cast iron objects and tools, slowly made their way from Asia to other regions along trade routes. By the 1400s, cast iron was well ensconced as an alloy in Western Europe and was used widely in the production of household goods and weapons. Some cooking vessels were used in the early years of cast iron production, but it wasn’t until the 1700s that the cast iron “Dutch Oven” became the ubiquitous cooking pot.

That said, it's safe to say that in the past 300 years many kitchens had a cast iron skillet and a cast iron Dutch oven to manage the meals of the day and perhaps a cast iron oven—set into a chimney—for the baking. When the Europeans brought cast iron to the Americas during the colonization, the pots populated the hearths and homes of the early settlers and took them westward working their way one meal at a time. Cast iron has always been decidedly at home in the US. Over time manufacturers have added a glass enamel lining and coating to cast iron, and also made cast steel, but cast iron is much cheaper and its proletarian appeal warrants celebration!

Using cast iron…

Cast iron deserves a spot in everyone’s cabinets. And while it might get moved to the back of the shelf, its form and function will never go out of style. It’s durable—and it’s practically indestructible—but it asks for a few simple things to assure its functionality. After use, it should be washed with mild soapy water and dried, THOROUGHLY. If you really want it to love you forever, give it a quick swipe with oil on a paper towel and pop the pan back in a hot oven to dry it completely or heat it for just a bit on a burner so the oil will not go rancid. This preserves the seasoning.

You can’t put a cashmere sweater in the washing machine, and you can't put cast iron in the dishwasher. Period. If you do, the seasoning will be gone, and while you can "re-season" it, this can easily be avoided.

Find these US-made vintage lovelies for your kitchen…

Griswold and Wagner are the most sought after of the manufacturers of cast iron cookware. Griswold manufactured in Erie, PA from 1865–1957, and Wagner in Sidney, OH from 1891–1999, but the companies’ success waned in the late 1940s and continued to decline after these family businesses were bought and subsumed into a larger housewares brand. Griswold is usually marked, and it's easy to spot, with “Erie” or the well-known logo featuring a blocky cross in a circle logo on the bottom of pots. Wagner used a variety of logos—and sometimes none at all—so its provenance is more difficult to document. Pre-1890s cast iron may have what is called “gate marks” on the bottom—this slash mark is a remnant of the casting process.

Lodge—a company, based in TN has been making cast iron—and cast stainless steel—since 1896. They're a great option if you prefer new to vintage, and since 2002 they've been selling "pre-seasoned" pans…a game-changer in their appeal and capacity for immediate use. If a cast iron pan is not seasoned, there is time and patience involved with imparting the seasoning to the surface so that the pan can be used and a natural non-stick coating develops with use.

Not-So-Soda Irish Soda Bread

Aunt Julie’s Not-So-Soda Irish Soda Bread

By: Jen O’Connor of Earth Angels Studios

I was raised in an Irish-American household, and the only thing I liked about Irish Soda Bread was the butter you got to put on top to make it palatable! This recipe comes from my husband's Aunt Julie Flaherty O'Connor, and it's the best stuff out there. Moist, easy to make…but back to moist… 

I used to call Aunt Julie every St. Patrick’s Day morning to get the recipe, not that I didn’t have it jotted in my mess of a cookbook, but it was an excuse to chat and celebrate the small joy of a recipe shared. And don’t tell anyone, but I make it with ¾ cup of chocolate chips instead of raisins if no one is looking…but here’s Aunt Julie’s, the classic version.

INGREDIENTS

5 cups flour

7½ tsp baking powder 

½–¾ cup sugar (depends on your taste)

1 box raisins 

1 can evaporated milk + water added to make 3 cups liquid

TOPPINGS

1 tsp cinnamon (to taste)

2 Tbsp sugar (to taste)

4 tsp butter

1. In large bowl mix dry ingredients, add raisins; mix them in by hand. Add liquid; mix. 

2. Place in greased cast iron fry pan (size 7 or 8 Griswold). Sprinkle top with cinnamon and sugar.

3. Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour or until toothpick comes out clean. Brush top with butter while still warm.

A Natural Progression — Jennifer Lanne

IN UPSTATE NEW YORK, there’s a 1700’s era home on a farm named Devils Hop. Inside lives a self-taught artist, Jennifer Lanne. She describes herself as having a “crush on color,” as Jennifer lives in layers of paint of every shade. Countless landscape paintings, crackled still life renditions of bouquets, and swatches displaying every gradient imaginable surround her daily. Color to Jennifer Lanne invokes a giddy sense of first love, and the result of that love is radiant.

It’s a tricky combination to evolve and stay current artistically yet stay true to yourself and personal style.

My first ‘real’ studio was and still is where I currently paint and design, in my barn studio. Before that, it was at a kitchen table, floor or anywhere I could find the space! I started out with one room in the barn, which has expanded to two rooms...which will probably expand again at some point! There is a huge loft space above where my studio currently resides that is calling my name.

I am all about growth. As an artist it’s just the natural progression of things—challenging myself to always be improving, innovating and just plain editing my artwork and myself constantly, to make a better version. The worst thing for me as a creative person is to become stagnant.

My artwork has further matured over time, and I now find myself drawn to more classic motifs with an upscale vibe—grandiose-scaled painted florals and landscapes with just enough aging and distressing to temper them from being too pretentious. I want my pieces to have a “new-fashioned” flair to work in a modern environment as well as cross over to play nicely in vintage themed décor.

"My mind is soaking up its surroundings non-stop — almost to a bothersome degree, as it’s hard to switch it off."

I felt my artwork and style would lend nicely to home prod- ucts such as pillows, poufs, and throw blankets, as well as tabletop accessories.

When you’re a creative person it seeps into every aspect of your life. I am constantly on the hunt for inspiration. Colors intrigue me. Compositions and textures fascinate me. I am continuously creating my own colors which nature and my surroundings grace me with in abundance. I am also drawn to the past...antiques and vintage items. Large theatrical backdrops and moody Hudson Valley landscapes, well-aged pieces, honest wear and patina really speak to me.

I was a painter/artist when I was first published and still am though now am dappling more in design, as well as a little photography. I have a tiny background in interior design as well as floral design so that sneaks it’s way into my work as well. Photography started as a necessity as being an artist you need to showcase your work, especially in such a visually centric age that we are in. Vignettes of fabulous, fun, curated vintage finds peppered with some saturated florals can tell an exciting story!

It is a tricky balance to do what artists love, while also having to attach price tags to our work. Marketing is often my biggest challenge, though, despite this and other obstacles, I am proud of being able to conquer them on my own. It’s not easy getting back up so many times after experiencing so much defeat. It’s hard letting go of what you feel “should be” and moving on to what is. Even just simply “letting go” of a painting that just doesn’t seem to come together...to crumple it up, throw it away and start over, can be difficult.

More On Jennifer

WEBSITES: JenniferLanne.com, ArtAtHomeCollection.com

INSTAGRAM: @jenniferlanne.devilhopfarm

This story originally ran in Where Women Create.

Create to Heal — Bessie Zinz

Take your work to a place that changes your perspective and opens your mind.

BESSIE ZINZ designs and crafts handmade handbags and soft, home goods from organic fabrics and vintage textiles under her label, Besserina. She also creates traditional art and takes photographs inspired by her daily living on a woodland farm. Her love of handmade led her to co-found A Day in the Country Handmade & Vintage Market—an annual gathering of like-minded makers in Bessie’s hometown of Northeast Ohio. She spends her days loving on her five sweet children, creating beauty and keeping house.

I GREW UP sitting on the fender of a Minneapolis Moline tractor bottle-feeding runt piglets, ear tagging calves and breaking steers. I spent my summers cooking for farmhands, eating warm tomato sandwiches with my brothers, digging potatoes, swimming in the pond and napping under a willow tree. I still live in this same county where I grew up, now managing my farm and woodland. Our house sits on the edge of a lake, surrounded by oaks, pines, hollyhocks and hydrangeas—a place of solace that I love dearly.

Most of the members of my family were entrepreneurs. Call it stubborn or call it hard- headed independence; it’s just built into my DNA. My mother made art dolls, and her sewing studio was in my bedroom. Most nights I’d nod off to sleep listening to the whirring of her old Kenmore. My job was to turn doll arms and fill them with stuffing. She and my grandmother would host a private show in the woods around the holidays. It was by invitation only, but women would sneak in and strip the place bare.

My drive to create has changed over the years. I used to lock myself up in a little playhouse in the backyard and paint my little heart out, just to try to escape from reality. As I got older and started a family, I created out of necessity as young families on a budget sometimes do. In 2012, my husband was diagnosed with cancer and passed away three years later. I struggled to create over the next few years, as my husband was my biggest fan and greatest supporter. Without him, what was I?

Then one day a family friend asked me to alter some of his clothes to fit him; he’d lost his arm in an accident. I cried the entire time I was stitching away. Grief is a funny thing. It brings out something inside of you that is raw and real. Slowly I started making and quickly realized I was making to mend my heart.

Six years ago, in my hometown, I co-founded a handmade and vintage market—A Day in the Country. Finding and connecting with other inspiring souls, as well as, assisting them with an outlet to showcase their passions means the world to me and is the premise for our market. As a handmade maker, it can be frustrating to be a part of a show or market and compete with reproductions and mass-produced items. Our market strives to bring authentically handmade products to our attendees. It’s a two-day event in the fall, with amazing makers both local and from afar. We incorporate make-and-take projects and also get children involved by teaching skills like embroidery and crochet. Keeping these gentle arts alive by passing them on to younger generations and sparking their creative spirit is very important.

Creative magic doesn’t always have to happen inside your studio, no matter how much of a sanctuary it is to you. Inside your house, above the garage, or off your property in a rented warehouse, wherever it may be, find a place that is easily accessible that you want to escape to. I incorporate aspects into my studio that invigorate all of my senses. Sturdy wood furniture helps me feel grounded, windows lend fresh air and provide a beautiful view and a comfort- able chair provides a place to relax when the need arises. Plenty of storage and a place for everything help tremendously. French doors allow me to be closed off from the rest of the house but still keep an eye on my children. Stations for each project with an easy flow help me stay organized and on task. I maintain a mood board filled with magazine clippings, sketches, photos, ideas and goals.

Setting up my studio properly has given me a workspace to clear my mind and find my purpose again; learning to use that raw sadness to look inside myself and find my authentic gifts and what really matters in life. I no longer create just to make inventory—I create to heal.

The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in
all the details of daily life.

William Morris

More On Bessie

Besserina.com

Instagram: @Besserina

A New Project: A Farmhouse

Since I was very young, I usually say four, I have known that one day I would inherit my family’s farmhouse in rural western Kentucky. If you’ve ever read my writings you know how deep my roots run in the clay filled soils of Kentucky. While I was in Kentucky a couple of weeks ago I learned the time had come for me to inherit the farmhouse. Naturally I quickly began work on developing plans for the garden, the landscaping, the garages, the barn, and the house. For two decades I have been gathering antiques and pieces and art and books that would some day fill the house. It feels crazy that in a few short months I will be filling the rooms that my great great grandfather built with pieces I’ve collected from all across the U.S.

Over the coming weeks I will be sharing more of the before shots, the plans, and the inspiration for what I will create in this 125 year old space. I do hope you’ll stay tuned. Next week I will share some exterior shots of what it currently looks like.

I cannot wait to dive in with my favorite makers, American made brands, and antique hunters to make this the most photogenic and content producing space. I get giddy just thinking about all my beautiful pieces coming out of storage and into a real home.

If you follow along closely you know my studio is in an old coal house in the back yard, you also know I have plans to convert a two car garage into a photo studio, and have dreams of a greenhouse and restoring the orchard out in the back yard.

Oh, oh, oh…I will be having a small Barn Sale and weekend of workshops and classes this summer. If you’d like to be involved in any of this email me (editor.folk@gmail.com).

And most important… I will be preparing the farmhouse to be an AirBNB! A quiet rural oasis on a working farm. A space that will be filled with folk art, Americana, pastoral views, and a vast collection of VHS tapes.

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Follow my Farmhouse Pinterest board for more inspiration:

A Conversation Dan Carter

I recently started following London born photographer Dan Carter and his images of South Africa. The purity and the honesty of the images had me wanting to learn more…

Where are you from? I was born in the UK but I’m currently living in Cape Town, South Africa and right now, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. It’s the most beautiful, complex and fascinating place and I am determined to dedicate years and years to building our nation. My heart for this country grows every day.

Why do you explore/ what’s changed about you from traveling? For a long time, travel was just an excuse to explore the most beautiful locations and simply to seek out adventure wherever I could; an escape from everyday life. I’m a natural introvert so there was nothing I enjoyed more than heading out to the Alps, finding a little chalet up in the mountains and spending days on my own, running the trails. There’s an unmatched tranquility out there.

These days, it’s slightly different. My greatest goal is that through my work, I can tell a new story and begin to change the narrative.  There is so much beauty and diversity across South Africa and a whole lot more untapped creativity. There is a desperate need to change perspectives and challenge a lot of stigmas. I think it’s really important to remember that whether or not you are a photographer, we are all storytellers and we have to be really careful how we use our voices. We have the privilege to tell stories but even more importantly, a responsibility to play a part in changing stories. Photography has become an outlet to share hope, light and to give someone a voice.

What is your 9-5? I am a full time photographer and have been freelance for the past 4 years, focusing primarily on social media content creation. Before going freelance I talked my way into a number of jobs I was unqualified for, from pizza chef to barista. In the early days, I was desperate to work for myself so I suppose I was chasing the ‘freelance lifestyle’ more than I was pursuing a passion for photography but I fell in love with storytelling in the process. I find so much beauty in the untold.

What is your favorite place you've visited? Without a doubt, Malawi and Rwanda are some of the most incredible places I’ve travelled to so far. Most of us arrive in a country like Malawi with so many preconceived ideas of how it will be yet hour by hour, with every conversation and each km they were broken down. The reality is, we are all somewhat the product of our upbringing but if we are not open to having our perspective challenged, that can be a pretty dangerous place to be.

In Malawi we experienced the most beautiful scenery, staying in mountain huts at the summit of Mount Mulanje and beside Lake Malawi’s pristine beaches. Everyone we met was incredibly welcoming and hospitable; it was a beautiful adventure. The diversity of Southern and East Africa is unmatched and I would love to spend the next few years exploring there. 

What is the single greatest moment of humanity you've experienced while traveling? On one of my first visits to South Africa, I met a young guy by the name of Shawn. He was a car guard which for those who don’t know, is when people (often homeless) will look after your car and help you park for small change. What started with a hot chocolate led to a great friendship and I’d meet Shawn at his spot every evening, chatting about life, hopes and aspirations. It was the biggest blessing to me, that I was able to walk alongside him as he faithfully fought to change his situation. He never lost hope. He never stopped believing that there was more for him, even in gruelling winters, he would never lose hope. It was in these moments that I was reminded why South Africa would one day become home. He’s now living in Johannesburg with an amazing job and a transformed life. His determination, friendship and never failing hope has been a huge inspiration to me.

Who is the most dynamic and thought provoking person you've ever met? One of my favourite photographers is a man called Andile Bhala from Soweto. We were hiking table mountain a few months ago when he turned to me and said, “If you look after the neighbourhood the neighbourhood will look after you…so when the neighbourhood has your back, you’re safe.” It was then that I realised, we can’t always choose where we find ourselves but we can choose what stories we tell and we can choose to seek out the beauty everywhere we go. Honestly, that has shaped my photography forever. I no longer care to tell my own story when there are thousands upon thousands of untold stories that will impact and transform the mindsets of generations. If I can just play a small part in that, I’ll be happy.

What would you say to your former self? Don’t try and do it all on your own. Consistency is always key, just one step at a time and trust the process. You don’t have to see the end from the beginning and perfection isn’t always the goal, sometimes it’s just about telling the story.

What gives you hope? I see a generation who is not defined by their surroundings. I see a generation rising up who refuse to accept the way things are and are prepared to work towards a brighter future. Social media so often gets stick because we’ve created a ‘me me me’ culture but actually, it can be a great platform to showcase your work and tell important stories. Let’s not blame the tool for how we decide to use it.

Where to next? As I write this I’m currently on route to Sydney which is super exciting. The only place I’ve visited in Australia is Melbourne so my expectations for coffee in Sydney have been set pretty high. After that, I’m really looking forward to getting home to Cape Town and spending as much time as possible exploring my city and its' surroundings.

— dancarternow.com | @dancarter

Heirloom Oatmeal Cookies

A perfect summer treat. Oatmeal cookies are the perfect combination for a snack that won't leave you feeling all overly sweet on a hot summers day.

Oatmeal Cookies

2.5 C Old-Fashioned Oats, Uncooked
1.5 C Self-Rising Flour
1.5 C Brown Sugar, Firmly Packed
1 C Shortening
4 t Cinnamon
1 t Vanilla
0.5 C Milk
2 Eggs

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Mix well by hand or with stand mixer. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto a lightly greased cookie sheet. Bake 10 minutes.

Old Fashioned Chocolate Pie

Old Fashioned Chocolate Pie

Pie is probably my favorite dessert. Actually it is, it is without question my favorite dessert. Well, bread pudding is right up there with it. This recipe is a traditional chocolate pie, but it incredibly easy. It is perfect for any season. Pie really should be celebrated all year long.

A classic southern chocolate pie recipe just like your grandmother used to make. Perfect for the baptist potluck, a funeral dinner, or as a gift to a new neighbor. Pairs well with sweet tea, fire flies, and heirloom quilts.

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa 

4 tablespoons cornstarch

2 egg yolks

3/4 cup cream

1/4 cup water

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 tablespoons butter

Pre-Baked pie crust

Combine sugar, cocoa, cornstarch, egg yolks, cream and water in a saucepan, and cook until thick, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and add vanilla and butter. Stir well. Pour into a baked pie crust. Top with meringue.

Strawberry Pie

Warmer weather cannot come soon enough! I found myself sitting here dreaming of days when you can step outside barefoot and feel the grass between your toes.

 One of my favorite things to do when the weather turns warmer is go strawberry picking. I absolutely love strawberries and none of the store bought ones ever seem to taste as good as the ones we pick ourselves. On the way back from the farm they always make our car smell so good and all I can think about is eating them dipped in warm, melted chocolate...my favorite!

There are so many things to do with your fresh strawberries, like making jam or ice cream or fresh smoothies...the possibilities are endless. One of my favorites however, is a nice slice of strawberry pie.

This is the easiest pie that I have ever made and by far one of the best.  Maybe it's because I love these fresh strawberries so much or maybe it's because of all that incredible whipped cream that I pile on top of my pieces. The vanilla pudding mix whipped with the cream is the best. There's no way I could go back to eating store bought whipped cream after this! Just wait until you try it.

What do you like to make with strawberries?

Strawberry Pie

3 quarts strawberries, hulled and divided

1 1/2 cups sugar

6 Tablespoons cornstarch

2/3 cup water

10-inch deep-dish pie crust, baked

1 cup whipping cream

1 1/2 Tablespoons instant vanilla pudding mix

Optional: A few drops of red food coloring

In a large bowl, mash berries to equal 3 cups; set aside along with remaining whole berries. Combine sugar and cornstarch in a large saucepan. Stir in mashed berries and water; mix well. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly; heat and stir for 2 minutes.

Remove from heat, add food coloring if desired for red color. Pour mixture in a large bowl; chill for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until mixture is just slightly warm. Fold in remaining whole berries. Pour into prepared pie crust, chill for 2-3 hours. Place cream in a small mixing bowl, use a hand mixer to whip cream and pudding mix until soft peaks form. Spread whipped cream mixture around edge of pie or dollop on individual slices. Serves 8-10. 

Strawberry Pie photography, styling, and recipe by Rikki Snyder. Find more from Rikki on her website and on Instagram—@RikkiSnyder.

Chocolate-Filled Red Velvet Cupcakes

Being that red velvet is one of my all time favorite desserts, these sinfully delicious chocolate-filled red velvet cupcakes topped with cream cheese frosting can always be found somewhere in the kitchen this time of year. Grab one and prepare to indulge!

Chocolate-Filled Red Velvet Cupcakes

1 cup milk chocolate pieces

1/4 cup heavy cream

1/4 cup plus 1 Tablespoon butter

1 egg

1 cup all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons unsweetened cocoa powder

3/4 cup sugar

2 teaspoons red food coloring

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup buttermilk

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon white vinegar

For filling, in small saucepan combine chocolate pieces, cream and 1 Tablespoon butter. Stir over low heat until chocolate is melted. Transfer to small bowl; cool for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Cover and freeze about one hour, until fudge-like consistency. Divide into 12 portions and working quickly with hands, roll each portion into a ball. Place in freezer. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Line a muffin pan with 12 paper bake cups. In a small bowl stir together flour, cocoa powder and 1/4 teaspoon salt; set aside. In a medium mixing bowl beat the 1/4 cup softened butter with mixer on medium to high for 30 seconds. Gradually add sugar; beat on medium until combined. Beat on medium 2 minutes more, scraping side of bowl occasionally. Beat in egg, food coloring and vanilla. Alternately add flour mixture and buttermilk, beating on low until combined. In a small bowl combine baking soda and vinegar; stir into batter. Divide half of the batter among the cups. Place a ball of filling on batter in center of each cup and spoon remaining batter into cups. Bake 15-18 minutes or until tops spring back when lightly touched. Remove and cool 10 minutes. Serve warm or cool completely and top with cream cheese frosting. Makes 12 cupcakes. 

Cream Cheese Frosting

8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature

8 Tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces and room temperature.

1 cup confectioner’s sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Place cream cheese in a medium mixing bowl. Using a rubber spatula, soften cream cheese. Gradually add butter and continue beating until smooth and well blended. Sift in confectioner’s sugar and continue beating until smooth. Add vanilla and stir to combine. Yields about 2 cups. 

A History of Valentines

Valentine’s Day is a decidedly handmade celebration. How can it not be when love is so personal, friendships so treasured, and the traditions of the holiday so old, that a simple love note penned from the hand seems a most apropos gesture of the heart?

A STORY BY JEN O’CONNOR

— earthangelsstudios.com

At one point or another, we’ve all ventured to fashion a Valentine card.  Bits of construction paper, the frill of a doily, markers, crayons…these are the things of school days’ crafting that have survived memory and time.  They’re still present at the most technologically advanced of today’s grammar schools and likewise, in our habits of dashing off a love note festooned with a doodled “heart” or an “x” and an “o”…or two. 

We learned early on, the gesture of a simple card is perfect, if the sentiment is true.  Valentine’s Day is best celebrated when we're given the excuse to express sweet feelings in a few, well-chosen words, or with the help of a more-clever writer’s imprinted ditty or eloquent dedication.

And while there are a legions of commercially produced Valentines onto which you can add that personal flourish, something given by hand – however simple, charms the recipient. Indeed since Valentine cards predate postal service by centuries, those most traditional among us still hand deliver cards – a gift in themselves -- with envelopes unsealed, simply tucked in as etiquette dictates all hand-delivered correspondence should be.

A Peek at the Sweetest Holiday’s History

While there is little reliable information to confirm one Saint Valentine, the most common of histories describe him as a Roman priest imprisoned and killed for marrying Christian couples.  That said, we have acknowledged February 14 as the feast day of “Saint Valentine” since the 1400s. This feast day has grown in fact and fable, history and tale, and has long been associated with the declaration of courtly love.

The first statements of love in honor of Saint Valentine’s Day, were said to be sung or recited and are referred to as poetical or amorous addresses.  Handwritten notes emerged in the 1400s with the very first written Valentines attributed to the imprisoned Charles, Duke of Orleans, in 1415. During his time of confinement in the Tower of London, the besotted young Duke passed time writing romantic verses for his wife, far off in France. More than 60 of his heartfelt poems have survived and are preserved among the treasures of the British Museum.

So how did Valentine greetings become tradition in a time when reading and writing, paper and pens were not the things for the common man or woman?  Love finds a way.  The tradition of putting forth heartfelt sentiments continued as it could among Western Europeans and by the Eighteenth Century exchanging written Valentines was in vogue among the educated and wealthy, and an emerging tradition among those with less means. 

Symbols and More

If kisses are the language of love, what then of the language of flowers?   Long before the modern tradition of giving that endorphin-raising chocolate as a token of affection, flowers were gifted with style and purpose. A Persian art-form known as the "language of flowers" was brought to Europe by Charles II of Sweden in the 1700s. 

Bouquets were exchanged among lovers bearing detailed messages and romantic secrets. Surviving floral dictionaries of the time show the more popular the flower, the more associated with its presence. The red rose –the favorite flower of Venus -- represented romantic love; hundreds of years later we’re continuing this tradition with dozens of red roses delivered as a message of love on Valentine’s Day.

Many also ask where and when the heart emerged as a symbol of the holiday, it’s bright red double fluted shape bearing no resemblance to an actual heart.  Indeed, in the late 1700s and early 1800s religious piety appeared even in love notes – referencing the divine’s intervention in pulling two souls and hearts together.  It is thought that the "Sacred Heart" of Jesus often depicted on these cards became the "Valentine Heart"; likewise too the angelic seraphim evolved into the more festive and babyish cupid that dons cards today. Folklore even tells of lace-making nuns who turned scissors to paper to make paper lace for the decoration of Valentine cards and thus not only the preponderance of reverent love notions and spiritual dedications of the heart survive, so does the presence of lace at the holiday.

Valentines in America

By the second half of the 19th Century early manufactured Valentines became available and the golden age for artistically layered, lush and sentimental Valentines flourished from 1840-1860.  This is owed to Esther Howland, an industrious female entrepreneur who embraced the opportunity to create the first mass-produced, commercially available cards for the holiday after receiving her first Valentine in 1847, the year she graduated Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts.  Her father was a stationer and she had access to printed papers, perforated lace papers and trims imported from England (where the first mass produced Christmas cards had originated). With the assistance of artistic friends and a shrewd, early application of assembly line techniques, she created an extremely profitable business in greeting cards.

During this time, many emulated her grandly manufactured and stylish cards and chose to hand-make or embellish printed blanks or create their own Valentines with decorative materials like paper laces and ribbons, Dresden trims, honeycombed tissue, watercolors, colored inks, embossed paper hearts and more. Many of these cards can be seen among these pages and are favorites among holiday and ephemera collectors.

By the Victorian era when daily post was available for one cent --  called the "penny post” – Valentine postcards could be mailed to far off sweethearts.  Though the tradition of hand-delivered, hand-made cards perpetuated, penny postcards were all the rage and went hand in hand with printing advancements in lithography. Further, from about 1890 through WWI the hobby of collecting and displaying postcards, tradecards and paper follies abounded and served as entertainment in parlors across the country. 

By 1920, a Valentine was given or sent by almost everyone.

But, not all of these were sweet, Vinegar Valentines were caustic or sassy in their messages and were a fad, as were “love notes” when manufactured cards were designed for a brief period to resemble currency. These “money” cards were eventually banned – they appeared to infringe on counterfeit laws – but the moniker “love note” remained.  That said, the American tradition of exchanging cards was by this time, firmly rooted.

20th Century Traditions

A merrier, festive, and more playful touch emerged as Valentines were factory printed in the 20th Century.  By the 1920s – fueled by the penny post and modern production techniques-- oodles of cards – many shown here – were available and so affordable, that cards could be hand delivered to school chums, neighbors and more casual friends.  

Of course, more ardent cards were available, but the “packs” of printed cards that are still popular today found a niche and the idea of a secret admirer abounded in the anonymity of pre-printed cards.  These early 20th century traditions have perpetuated and remain today as our American tradition.

So as you gather your sweetest thoughts to share with loved ones and friends this Valentine’s Day remember, that a simple, written expression of love and affection is the centuries’ old tradition that’s created the most heartfelt of holidays.  And if you make it a handmade holiday…it’s always from the heart.

— earthangelsstudios.com

Standard

I have never really understood what a "bold" coffee is.  I have observed many people use the term as a security blanket––"Oh, just give me the boldest one you have;"  and while I may refer to my coffees as familiar, kind, smooth, and every now and then as a mistake (ok, more often than not), I have yet to have been greeted by one boldly.  There is an inescapable ambiguity with the term "bold," like "beautiful" and "standard."  I find the patina on on my great-grandfather's metal oil dripper to be beautiful; but that is not to suggest that you, or anyone else for that matter, will find much interest in the oxidized marble swirl paired with scuff marks and caked dirt.  Like beauty, we all define life's standards differently.  My standard is my morning.  It's standard.  It begins with a not-so-graceful stretch in bed, a throwing of the expired charging cord, and the regrouping of last night's scattered pillows.  I often start the day's genesis only to immediately fall back into bed.  Some mornings the sun greets me; others, I get things started for him first.  Regardless of what my mornings consist of or what position I wake up in, I treat my mornings all the same: as a standard.  The morning is something that no one can take away from me.  The beginning breaths, ticking at an early hour are mine.  The day's start is a full set of lungs, it is the opening of eyes––whether or not one wants to––and it is a refreshening of the senses.  The new day is a new opportunity.  Call it bold, call it beautiful... but my standard yields a new start for every day.  Don't we deserve that?  Don't we all?

A knife and fork at the dinner table should not be anymore standard than the morning's white light or the soft sheets keeping me in bed.  The day's exposition is not to be identified as a luxury but I choose to handle it as such.  The early hours spent during the start of the day are perfect for their simplicity.  The time caught in soft illumination contrasts the busy day to follow.  I value the time I have to speak with my body, to find color, to open my eyes.  Perhaps I am at fault for finding comfort on the left side of the clock; maybe I am no different than the man searching for a bold coffee.  

Standard is not to suggest that my mornings are static; please, do not misinterpret my words.

Bold, beautiful––standard.  Mornings are expositional to the day.

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie Ice Cream Sandwiches

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie Ice Cream Sandwiches

FOR THE STRAWBERRY HAND PIE CRUST
3 cups flour
4 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp salt
½ tsp nutmeg
8 oz unsalted butter, cold
6–10 Tbsp ice water

1 egg

1 Tbsp milk

FOR THE STRAWBERRY HAND PIE FILLING
¾ lb strawberries, caps removed, cut into 1” slices
1 stalk rhubarb, chopped
3 Tbsp granulated sugar

FOR THE ICE CREAM
1½ cups strawberry ice cream

To Make the Crust 

1. Mix dry ingredients in large bowl. Grate butter over bowl on largest hole setting. Stop every 2 minutes to stir in grated butter bits (avoid 1 giant butter shard clump). 

2. Add water in small increments, stirring until all water is added. Knead dough 30 seconds to disperse moisture. 

NOTE: Grab handful of mixture; squeeze. If it sticks together when released, it’s fine. If it completely crumbles apart add 1–2 Tbsp water. Once dough holds its shape divide into 2 balls.

3. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Lay sheet of parchment on flat working surface; lightly dust with flour. 

4. Place 1 dough ball on parchment, pat it to a rough oval shape a few inches thick. Lightly flour the top, lay another sheet of parchment on top, roll out dough to about ⅛” thick between sheets of parchment. Repeat with other ball (2 sheets of dough between parchment).

5. Line large baking sheet with parchment paper. Use 3” round cookie cutter to cut out bottoms of hand pies, place them on baking sheet with 2” inches space between. 

6. Use slotted spoon to put some sliced strawberry filling on top, leaving ¼” border around to seal crust.

7. Use 3½” round cookie cutter to cut tops of hand pies out of other sheet of dough. To seal, dip finger in water, trace around edge of bottom crust. Place larger dough circle on top, press edges to seal. 

8. Use fork to crimp edges, use knife to cut a few small holes in top to allow steam to escape. Repeat until you've made 12 hand pies.
9. Whisk together egg and milk; lightly brush on pies. Place them in oven, bake until golden brown about 40 minutes. Cool before assembling.

To Make the Filling 

1. Toss strawberries, rhubarb, sugar in medium bowl until combined. Empty mixture into small saucepan; bring to boil over medium-high heat. 

2. Reduce heat to low, simmer until strawberries have softened, some liquid has evaporated; 15–20 minutes. 

3. Remove from heat, set aside, cool to room temp.

To Prep the Ice Cream Centers 

1. Line ¼ cup measuring scoop with plastic wrap. Use spoon to scoop ice cream into measuring cup; compact it. 

2. Turn it onto tray lined with parchment paper, remove plastic wrap from top. Line cup with plastic wrap again; repeat until you have 6 mounds of ice cream. Place tray in freezer 1 hour.

To Assemble the Pies
When ready to serve, assemble by placing each ice cream disc in between 2 pies.