Red. White and Roux

This column has been writing itself since I got the news that Allie Zingarelli had died. I processed the information with resignation. We all knew the end was coming; it just came too soon. Her husband, Jiggs, left us only a short time ago. Her nephew, Tich, was buried only recently.

Few of the friends my age have their parents anymore. We envy those who do. Each time another of that generation leaves us, we feel the loss as keenly as if it were our own.

I knew Allie as the mother of my good friend, John, and as my fifth grade reading teacher. Her daughter, Elizabeth, is the same age as my sister. Allie and I were not close friends. She was more a comforting lifelong presence.

We most often ran into each other at the grocery store. I joked that we must be on the same shopping schedule. She said, “No, honey, I am always here.” She worried constantly about her weight, but didn't stop cooking.

In fact, she gave me one of my most prized recipes. Her lemon cheese cake was legendary. One evening when I was a dinner guest, I summoned up my courage and asked for the recipe. She didn't hesitate. Looking around for a piece of paper, she finally found her purse, ripped out a blank check, and grabbed a red pen. As she scribbled out the ingredients and instructions for the filling, she advised me to use the 1-2-3-4 cake recipe from the Philaco Club cookbook for the layers.

Allie Zingarelli's Lemon Cheese Filling

1 ½ cups sugar

1 cup water

½ cup lemon juice

grated rind of one lemon if you wish

6 egg yolks

6 Tbls. Flour

dash of salt

¼ stick butter

Mix sugar, salt, flour and lemon juice. Add water and beaten egg yolks. Add butter and cook over double boiler until thick.

Philaco Club Cookbook 1-2-3-4 Cake

Courtesy Mrs. C.M. Chauncy

1 cup butter or margarine

2 cups sugar

3 cups sifted cake flour

4 large eggs

3 tsp. Baking powder

1 cup liquid (milk or orange juice)

2 tsp. Vanilla extract

Cream butter and sugar well. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each. Add dry ingredients alternately with liquid, beginning and ending with dry ingredients. Add flavoring. Put in pans that have been greased and dusted with flour and bake at 375 degrees for thirty minutes.

I could offer more step-by-step instructions, but I have faithfully reproduced the recipes as they were given to me. Novice cooks might want to ask questions. Just call; we of a certain generation will walk you through it.

From emails and telephone calls, I know the Times has readers all over the world.

Right now they are thinking, “Why is this called a lemon cheese cake when there is no cheese?” Good question. Some cookbook authors and historians posit that cheese is a corruption of the word chess, which is basically a cooked mixture of eggs, sugar, and flavoring. Rest assured. This is a prototype Southern recipe with an impeccable provenance.

On the subject of food, I have another memory. I was at a shower, or tea, or coffee, at Allie's home. The mind simply boggles at the number of events she hosted over the years. The table featured tiny, flaky biscuits stuffed with thin slices of ham. She explained that in her home state of North Carolina no event was complete without ham biscuits. I still think of her whenever I eat one.

Allie arrived here as a teacher in 1947 fresh out of college. Her lifelong friend, Jean Gander told me they came in the same year and were even roommates. Allie married Jiggs on July 21, 1948, and Jean married Bubba on July 22 the same year. Jean said they talked on the telephone every day.

What wealth! A marriage of 60 years, a friendship for even longer, four children who recognize the riches of their childhood, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

I am sad in a good way. I talked to my old friend Renn Randolph Edenfield as she drove home from the funeral and luncheon. We agreed that we were supposed to feel a great loss, because it is. Our grief, our recollections, and our recognition that we aren't children make for lives rich with experience.

Denise Roux is a regular columnist for the Apalachicola and Carrabelle Times. To reach her, email her at rouxwhit@mchsi.com