I’ve been planning to post this chicken dish, one of my favorite recipes from the More-With-Less Cookbook. I was going to talk about how my children are gong-ho over it and how Sweetsie ate three pieces the night I served it (not to mention the piles of brown rice, green beans, applesauce, etc). But then, this past Sunday our class had the privilege of discussing the story of the renowned cookbook with the deceased author’s husband Paul who, lucky-for-us, attends our church.

Like me, most of the other class members had grown up with the book and are plenty used to tossing around the term “more-with-less.” Our class had been discussing the economy (among other things) and found ourselves musing over how our parents’ generation was so much more thrifty than our generation is now. And then we started talking about the cookbook that had come out when we (some of us, anyway) were just little squirts running around in cloth diapers, and had been so formative in shaping our present-day Mennonite identity. As we talked it gradually dawned on us that Hey! The one person who knows the most about the book attends our church. Let’s get him to come talk with us!

And so he did. Paul came prepared with notes that he had unearthed from some archives and with a tote bag full of cookbooks, one of which was his wife’s own personal copy. He also had copies of the German and Japanese translations, as well as the cookbook’s sequels and the children’s cookbook (which I couldn’t help squealing over: I cooked out of this!). We passed them around, sniffing the old-book smells, trying to sound out the German word(s) for baking powder (I think), and pointing out favorite recipes, all the while listening to Paul as he talked.

The More-With-Less Cookbook came about as a result of the food shortage crisis in the mid-1970’s. During that time the Mennonite Church sent out a memo (which Paul wrote) to all the churches urging members to, among other things such as cutting back on gas usage, reduce their food expenditures and donate the saved money to Mennonite Central Committee.

Over a picnic supper one night, some friends said to Doris and Paul, “What we need is a new Mennonite cookbook.” The idea stuck with Doris and she eventually decided she’d like to tackle such a project. Her only hesitation was that the current Mennonite cookbook, Mennonite Community Cookbook by Mary Emma Showalter, was extremely popular, practically the bible of Mennonite cooking, and Doris didn’t want to trod on Mary Emma’s toes. Doris finally decided to contact Mary Emma and ask her blessing on the project, which Mary Emma gracious granted. (By the way, when I was in college I cleaned Mrs. Showalter’s house a couple times—the only thing I remember is that I didn’t know how to replace the foil under the electric stove’s burners and she had to show me.)

Doris sent out recipe requests to people all over the country, and especially to people who were living overseas (or who had lived overseas) and knew an extra thing or two about making do with less. Recipes poured in, were tested, and in less than two years about one-fourth of the recipes they had received were published in the cookbook.

They printed fifteen thousand cookbooks at the first printing, though they were worried they might not all sell. It was a needless worry—the books sold almost before they hit the shelves, and they had to print another ten thousand every couple weeks to meet the demand. Today over 800 thousand More-With-Less Cookbooks have been published. (Paul said that Doris decided to keep the first ten thousand dollars from the royalties as payment for her two years of work—any money that exceeded that went to Mennonite Central Committee. Paul followed the same policy when Living More-With-Less was published. I think he said that the books earned MCC well over a million dollars.)

Doris was working on her second book, Living More-With-Less, when she died in the late 70s. The sequels to the More-With-Less Cookbook, Extending the Table and Simply in Season, came out in 1991 and 2005 respectively. I call the series the Mennonite Cookbook Trilogy, and they are my go-to gifts for weddings and graduations and housewarmings.

Honey-Baked Chicken
Adapted from the More-With-Less Cookbook.

I upped the amount of butter and honey (and the seasonings accordingly) in order to make the dish a little saucier, but even so, it’s not an overly-saucy dish. All the saucy drippings get squabbled over and greedily slurped up.

My mother sometimes substitutes brown sugar for the honey.

You could cut back on the butter, if you are so inclined. Maybe add some chicken stock instead.

1 3-pound chicken, cut up
½ cup butter
½ cup honey
2 tablespoons mustard
1 1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 teaspoon curry powder

Arrange the chicken pieces in a 9 x 13 pan.

Melt the butter in a saucepan and add the rest of the ingredients, stirring until combined. Pour the warm sauce over the chicken pieces.

Bake the chicken, uncovered, at 350 degrees for 60-90 minutes, periodically spooning the sauce over the chicken pieces. The chicken is done when it is nicely browned.

Serve with rice.

Attention Parents!

For decades, kid specialists have been studying the habits of children in an effort to figure out what it is that children most want and need (aside from the basics in which we are well-versed: food, clothing, shelter, and a good-night kiss). Parents are desperate for this information, and have been steadily throwing their money to the corporate gods in their quest to purchase the perfect plaything for their darling children: Wiis, Nintendos, American dolls, rainbow-colored swing sets, not-so-little battery-powered jeeps that the children can ride in themselves, remote-controlled helicopters, bouncy balls, hula-hoops, inflatable swimming pools, and so on. They are searching in hopes that they will find something that will make little Billy and Susie inordinately happy, something they will actually play with, something that won’t break after a measly five minutes of enthusiastic handling, and, this is most important, something that will buy the weary parents a few consecutive minutes of peace and quiet.

Dear Parents, I am hear to tell you that we now have the answer to that question. Thanks to a intensive scientific study conducted by some child-study experts in rural Virginia, we have unearthed the magical, hot-ticket item. Not only is this the highly sought-after toy that can, and will, be played with for hour upon glorious hour, it is composed of one hundred percent recyclable materials so it will never end up in the landfill. This plaything is sturdy, elemental, and uncomplicated. It doesn’t have parts than can get broken or small pieces that can get lost and subsequently render it useless. It is appropriate for children of all ages, from toddlers to teenagers, and Billies and Susies the world over are guaranteed to love it.

What is this toy, you ask? It’s so simple that you may at first be disbelieving and maybe even disgusted—discovering that what you’ve been seeking is so simple, especially after you have spent many hard-earned dollars, may at first glance be rather disheartening. But take courage—we are all inclined to miss the simple things in life. Your disbelief and incredulity will quickly turn to relief and excitement.

This most amazing of amazing toys is—drum roll, please!—a couple dump-truck loads of … dirt. That’s right, dirt! Simply purchase some clods of sod (soil, really, but “sod” rhymes better) and your children will know what to do. To obtain some dirt, call your local excavating company and order two or three loads (the largest size possible—the big dump trucks are part of the fun) of topsoil. It will cost you a bit, perhaps two to three hundred dollars, but considering that the dirt will not go to waste (you can use it once they’ve finished with it), it’s an all-around solid expenditure. It will quickly become obvious to you that dirt is all your kids ever really needed or wanted. Of course, they don’t know that—most kids don’t go around begging their parents for a pile of dirt—so it’s up for you to show them.

In order to get the most value out of this purchase, the Virginia child-experts recommend that you not call this purchase a gift. Simply buy it and then pour yourself a cup of coffee, put your feet up, and watch the party begin!

Okay, so we didn’t actually do this for the kids.

Mr. Handsome purchased this soil for some reason that I’m not clear on, probably for some deficient places on our property, like my flower gardens. But almost as soon as the trucks rumbled out the gate and off down the road, the kids laid claim to the brand new mountain of dirt.

I decided my flower gardens weren’t all that important.

My mom always said that kids need to dig. It’s a primal need, instinctual. My brothers used to dig holes all over the property (at least that’s what it seemed like), and my balding bro even wrote a song about it called The Hole to China. Parts of the song go like so:

Refrain:
I’m going to dig a hole all the way to China.
I’m going to dig a hole all the way to China.
Dig deep, dig deep, all the way to China.

Well, I’m going to dig a hole, going to start today.
There’s work to do, no time to play.
Going to dig a hole, going to dig a tunnel,
Going to use a pick, going to use a shovel.

(Refrain)

They say if you dig the whole way through
There are people there to be friends with you.
After you pop out of the ground,
They’ll say, “Wash your face if you want to stick around.”

(Refrain)

I’m going to wear my swimming suit.
I’ll take along a parachute.
So if it rains I’ll just swim round and round,
And if the hole falls through I’ll fall safe to the ground.

(Refrain)

So boys and girls go grab a shovel.

(Refrain)

Come with me, let’s dig a tunnel.

(Refrain)
(Refrain)

All the way to China.

My kids dug some holes, but they didn’t say anything about China.

Yo-Yo had a fascination with being buried.

So Miss Becca Boo helped to bury him completely, and then she turned him into a tree by sprinkling him with grass.

The Baby Nickel jumped into the hole,

and then kept popping up,

to throw out handfuls of dirt.

I kept shooting pics of him, but half the time he wasn’t there.

And then he had to get back out.

It was hard work.

But he did it.

Sweetsie was fond of her hoe.

She alternated between using it as a staff to lean on,

and a tool with which to attack the dirt.

She nearly chopped The Baby Nickel’s head off in her enthusiasm.

Miss Becca Boo attempted a slide.

It didn’t work too well.

It would probably work much better if they slicked the dirt with some water, but I didn’t tell them that. Of course.

Tonight’s bath water was obscenely filthy. For the next few hours they will be clean and sweet-smelling. Because they are sleeping. But tomorrow they will do it all over again.

Oh crap. It just occurred to me: the forecast is calling for rain. Mudslides anyone?