When I was 2 and my older sister was 6, my parents made a move to a farming community in southern Alberta. The farm my parents were able to purchase had been neglected for many years and took strong commitment and perseverance to renew the land and dwellings. The morning after we arrived, we had our first snow storm, which caught us without any coal. Fortunately my father was able to get some for our winter use. Soon after, Dad made a trip back to our old homestead. He drove the tractor pulling the combine all the way to our new farm with only one stopover in a city half way in between, a distance
of 231 km (144 miles).
One of my mother’s brother’s had gone ahead driving a grain truck loaded with what furniture and possessions my folks were trying to move. Along the way, being the truck was not covered, the metal lid flew off Mom’s flour storage container. Another traveler came upon it lying at the side of the road and stopped and hung it on a fence post. When my father making his long journey on the tractor came by and recognized the lid, picked it up and brought it the rest of the way home.
In the spring, my folks had to burn weeds and brush from 8-10′ (2-3 m) high in order to find a suitable area to plant a vegetable garden. ‘Mixed’ farming was truly a necessity as success was totally dependent on ‘Mother Nature’ when it came to grain crops.
Cattle, pigs and chickens all came into the equation, meaning my parents never had any part of the year that could be a bit more relaxed. As a teenager, I never realized what a special privilege growing up as a farmer’s daughter really was. Coming home on the school bus and having to do ‘chores’ seemed so boring as opposed to being able to spend after school hours with your friends. As I look back on those times now, it all comes clear as to how treasured and valuable those life lessons were.
My parents farmed until 1974 when they retired. They have since both passed away leaving my three sisters, one brother and I with many treasured memories.
I remember my mother making this orange bread loaf. I thought it was so unique because it used the fresh orange zest. The flavor was so distinct along with the bread being wonderfully moist. This recipe was one that has remained with me over the years, long after I had left my parents home. One year, on a holiday in Hawaii the restaurant we were at was serving orange loaf made into french toast complimented with a strawberry compote. I brought the idea home with me and used it numerous times over the years in my food service career. This year my husband and I enjoyed it on Valentines Day, but I’m sure you will find it great anytime.
| Prep Time | 30 minutes |
| Cook Time | 60 minutes |
| Servings |
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Ingredients
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- Peel oranges thinly and finely chop rind (zest). Boil with sugar and water for 10 minutes; cool Add egg and margarine Combine flour, salt, and baking powder Add flour mixture alternately with milk Pour into buttered 8 x 4 x 3 inch loaf pan Bake at 350 F for about 45 minutes or until bread tests done.
- In a shallow bowl, beat eggs; whisk in the milk, salt and spices. Soak the slices of orange bread for 30 seconds on each side. Cook on hot greased griddle until golden brown on both sides and cooked through.
- Rinse, hull and slice strawberries. Zest and juice lemon. In a small saucepan, whisk together sugar, water and corn starch. Add strawberries, mixing gently while bringing to a simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from heat, cool slightly. Serve with French toast. Top with French Vanilla Yogurt if desired.