Little House, big appetite: Remembering Laura Ingalls Wilder and her tasty way with words

Ree Drummond who? The original pioneer woman was Laura Ingalls Wilder, played here by Melissa Gilbert (second from left) in the 1970s television adaptation of “Little House on the Prairie.” (Photo: NBC)

By Mary Jane Miller

Laura Ingalls Wilder was born on this day, Feb. 7, in 1867 and her birthday is worth celebrating, especially since she spent some of her early years in Burr Oak, up in northeast Iowa.

She published her “Little House on the Prairie” books between 1932 and 1943, and I started reading them in the 1970s, when I was about 10. So I feel like Laura was a childhood friend. We grew up together. I related to her stories of joy and sorrow as a pioneer girl.

Sometimes, what spoke to me most were her mouthwatering descriptions of food, from summer vegetables plucked from the family garden to the glorious whole roast pig served up at the New England church supper. Those descriptions inspired my career in food.

When her sister Mary went blind, Laura started “seeing” for her, painting vivid images with words. She did the same for all of us who have enjoyed reading her books. Her winter diet of cornmeal, beans, salt pork and tea never seemed dull. The passages about sourdough biscuits, light bread and even the dreaded brown loaves that saved the family from starvation sent me straight to the kitchen. (Yes, I used my mother’s antique coffee mill to grind flour for a very poor loaf.) All of those details of constantly grinding wheat while endless blizzards howled outside made the stories seem very real.

Laura’s appreciation for the beauty of food is infectious. At the end of “The Long Winter,” she describes a simple glass bowl of cooked cranberries as a beautiful glowing centerpiece for the table. She describes the lacy pattern of boiled maple syrup drizzled into a pan of snow to make candy. Her sheer delight at roasting a pig and nibbling its tail made my mouth water. Oh, and that garden! The way she describes a saucer of sliced tomatoes sprinkled with sugar and a glug of cream was a revelation. I had to try that. And the way she describes Ma baking a pie with green pumpkin instead of apples made it easy to believe I could do that, too. (I tried but with less success.)

“Farmer Boy” isn’t the most popular book in the series, but it has some of the best food scenes. Laura’s husband, Almanzo, drops popcorn into a glass of milk, makes taffy and ice cream (with disastrous results for his pet pig), and loves “sweet, mellow baked beans” with “the bit of salt pork that melted like cream in his mouth.” When I read that, I went straight to the kitchen to bake beans for hours with bacon, coffee and molasses — quite a discovery for a girl raised on the canned stuff. I still make Almanzo’s favorite apples and onions, sauteed in a little bacon fat with a touch of brown sugar and apple cider vinegar.

When I shared Laura’s stories with my own children, they devoured them just like I had. I think her books will enthrall readers and whet their appetites for years to come.

For Laura’s birthday today, I may whip up a little something Ma made for Laura’s birthday party in “On the Banks of Plum Creek.” They’re called “vanity cakes,” Ma said, “because they are all puffed up, like vanity, with nothing solid inside.” From her description, I think cream-puff batter should fry up just right.

Happy birthday, my friend.

Mary Jane Miller lives in the country north of Indianola. Her career has included stints as a food writer, chef, cooking teacher and food scientist for various clients, including Betty Crocker, the Food Network, Pillsbury, Target and the Minnesota Governor’s Residence.