SUNDAY AFTERNOONS MEANT FAMILY TIME SPENT ON MY GRANDPARENTS’ FARM.
“We all treat these recipes as heirlooms.” A sprawling swath of green space in Arcanum, Ohio, where my brother, cousins and I ran like wild, exploring every crevice of the big octagonal barn, creeping through the neighboring cornfield and splashing across the little creek that babbled along the property line. We always had plenty of energy to spare, fueled by the country dinners my grandmom, Joice Bernhard, plunked down on the table each week—heaping bowls of mashed potatoes, buttery corn, green beans, thick Amish egg noodles, ham loaf and my favorite dessert: black bottom cupcakes.
As kids, we’d pile in Grandmom’s car after church, clamoring to hear the afternoon’s menu. A true Midwestern girl, I adored these stick-to-your-ribs meals. They…
