(What is the secret to finding hope in hard times?

When Suzan Col�n was laid off from her dream job at a magazine during the economic downturn of 2008, she needed to cut her budget way, way back, and that meant home cooking. Her mother suggested, ?Why don?t you look in Nana's recipe folder?? In the basement, Suzan found the tattered treasure, full of handwritten and meticulously typed recipes, peppered with her grandmother Matilda's commentary in the margins. Reading it, Suzan realized she had found something more than a collection of recipes'she had found the key to her family's survival through hard times.

Suzan began re-creating Matilda's 'sturdy food? recipes for baked pork chops and beef stew, and Aunt Nettie's clam chowder made with clams dug up by Suzan's grandfather Charlie in Long Island Sound. And she began uncovering the stories of her resilient family's past. Taking inspiration from stylish, indomitable Matilda, who was the sole support of her family as a teenager during the Great Depression (and who always answered ?How are you?? with ?Fabulous, never better!?), and from dashing, twice-widowed Charlie, Suzan starts to approach her own crisis with a sense of wonder and gratitude. It turns out that the gift to survive and thrive through hard times had been bred in her bones all along.

Cherries in Winter is an irresistible gem of a book. It makes you want to cook, it makes you want to know your own family's stories, and, above all, it makes you feel rich no matter what.

Suzan Col�n on Cherries in Winter

My mother is a brilliant storyteller, especially of our family's history. Around the holidays, she can have me in tears from laughing and crying, sometimes simultaneously. There's no shortage of material--our family is an interesting bunch--and Mom's delivery is almost stage-perfect. She could read a shopping list and turn it into tragic comedy.

When I got the idea to write these stories in what would become Cherries in Winter: My Family's Recipe for Hope in Hard Times, I was cooking meatloaf with my mother. I had been laid off and had to economize, and Mom suggested I dig out Nana's recipe file from the basement. In it, I found instructions for making good, simple food from many years of challenging times that my family had faced. I started making the recipes with Mom, and she?d tell the stories behind them.

I tried writing down what she said, but I lost all the flavor of the way she said it. Next I brought my tape recorder; Mom was initially a little shy, but she soon forgot the little machine was running--especially when I hid it behind the onions.

When I transcribed the tapes, I had more questions. "What year was that? How old were you when this happened? What was Nana wearing? Where were my great-grandparents living then?" A lot of our family stories, like our recipes, have been passed down through generations, and some of the details have been lost. "I don?t know," Mom would say, trying to remember things she hadn?t been told since she was a little girl.

Later, I?d read my notes and see big blanks in my family's past. It was like having parts of photographs, or a treasured quilt missing squares. I wished my Nana were still alive so she could tell me where she?d been, what she?d been thinking and feeling.

Then I remembered--though I know that isn?t the right or best word for something that came to me, rather than from me--that there had been another box with the old recipe file. I?d been so excited about finding the recipe folder that I hadn?t bothered to look at what was next to it.

I ran down to the basement again, opened the second box, and found the key to my family's history. In beautiful script and nearly perfect typing, on stationery, work letterhead, and even envelopes, Nana told me our stories. She?d written essays about meeting the father who never admitted she was his. She described my great-great-grandparents in lyrical detail. I read her voice, and it was as though Nana was saying, Here--this is what happened. She was right there, writing the book with me.

I?d never known until then that Nana had wanted to be a writer. Her work had never been published, but one of the happiest moments of my career as a writer was putting our words together. Between Nana's poetic details, Mom's rich storytelling, and me recording how I got through my own hard time in this recession, we wrote Cherries in Winter. The book isn?t just about my family; it's about all of our families. I hope when you read it that you?re reminded of your own family stories. Those, and some good, sturdy food, are what will get you through any hard time. --Suzan Col�n

(Photo � Adrian Kinloch)

Recommended to book clubs by 1 of 1 members.