Notes: Mari and Sammy – Thank you for all the lovely feedback! Mari, I'm glad it brought back happy memories!
Readers and REAL McRollers – Thank you for your amazing support! It is always appreciated.
More notes at the end.
Hope you enjoy!
The Scent of Christmas (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)
Catherine punched in the keycode to the front door, already smiling at the familiar scent filling the condo. She walked into the kitchen. "I know that smell," she said, beaming at the two women she found there.
Elizabeth stood at the island, electric mixer in hand, poised to lower the beaters into a bowl full of light green batter. Ang was at the sink, placing freshly washed aluminum bread pans into the dish drainer. Around them was loaf after loaf of pistachio bread cooling on wire racks filling virtually every available counter space.
"Hi, honey," Elizabeth said, smiling warmly as she straightened. "Your father took Angie on a nice, long walk."
Catherine nodded, stepping over to the sink and kissing Ang's cheek. "Looks like you two have had a very productive day." She grinned, silently counting the loaves. "Do you even know this many people on the island yet?" Laughing, she answered her own question. "Of course you do."
"Well, there's our neighbors, and Mom's bingo friends," Elizabeth said. "Your father's connected with a lot of people at the VA and at Pearl. You and Steve, of course. The Allens. Danny, Grace, and Gabby. Chin and Leilani, Kono and …" She smiled, nodding at the laptop on the kitchen table. "Well, you can see for yourself on the spreadsheet there." She lowered the mixer into the bowl and turned it on.
Catherine stepped over to the table, running a fingertip over the touchpad to wake up the screen. She leaned down and pushed her hair behind her ear, smiling at the neat columns and rows listing names, size and number of bread loaves, and dates for baking and delivering. "Nice," she said, nodding approvingly. She turned back around. Smiling softly as she watched, she folded her arms and waited for her mother to finish with the mixer. "This is definitely a familiar sight." She walked over to her mother, wrapping an arm around her. "One I haven't seen in a very long time."
"A holiday tradition no matter where we lived," Elizabeth said, leaning her head against Catherine's briefly. She smiled. "Even if that meant having Mom ship some of the necessary ingredients."
"Which I'm very glad to say wasn't often," Ang commented as she joined them, bringing two sprayed pans coated in sugar. "Though I was happy to do it."
"Well, I don't ever remember a Christmas when I was growing up without you making a least a couple dozen batches," Catherine said. "To me, this is the scent of Christmas."
Elizabeth smiled, touched.
"That makes sense," Ang said. "You got the recipe shortly before Catherine was born, right, Elizabeth?"
Her daughter nodded. "December 1977, from Kathie Ramsey." She began scooping the batter into the pans Ang had set up. "She was my supervisor at the time and brought some to a holiday potluck. I just had to ask for the recipe, which she happily gave to me." She smiled. "It was even printed on green paper to match the bread." Sighing, she said, "I may not need to look at the recipe anymore, but I still have it."
"And I was glad you were willing to share it with me," Ang said. "I've made my fair share of pistachio bread, too." She picked up a small bowl that contained a mixture of sugar, cinnamon, and pecan chips, and spooned a line down the center of each bread pan.
Catherine grinned. "Remember when we lived in Jacksonville? The kid next door, Joshua, he called it smiley face bread."
Elizabeth chuckled. "Right, because the cinnamon and sugar look like a smile in the middle of the bread after it's baked."
"A good name for it," Ang said. "I've never seen anyone eat a piece without smiling." She set down the bowl and Elizabeth spooned the rest of the batter into the pans.
Catherine opened the oven door and Elizabeth placed the two pans inside, setting the timer before straightening. Before Ang could take the mixing bowl over to the sink to wash, Catherine snuck a quick finger in and swept it along the side for a bit of the remaining batter, smiling around her finger as she licked the dollop. "Mmm." She grinned at them. "Impossible to resist."
Elizabeth nodded, snagging her own taste and smiling back. "Even after all these years."
"Any of these loaves ready to wrap?" Catherine asked.
"Those at the end of the counter there should certainly be cool enough," Elizabeth said. She chuckled. "Wrapping them was always your favorite part."
"I loved the look of all those foil-wrapped loaves in a row." Catherine's smile widened. "I thought it was such a distinct look. Memorable somehow." She huffed a little laugh. "Even though of course any bread made in those pans would look the same wrapped up in aluminum foil." She shrugged. "Another symbol of the season, I suppose." She brought one of the racks over to the kitchen table where a box of clear plastic wrap and a box of foil sat waiting. Expertly, she wrapped each loaf in plastic and then foil. Smiling, she asked, "Did the red pull bows finally run out?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Yes. A few years ago."
"Those bows really did give the loaves a distinct look," Ang said, echoing Catherine's words.
"When I was little, I thought they were a little magical," Catherine said. "How the ribbon would be long and flat, but if you pulled the two small ends, it turned into a bow that you could wrap around the bread." She smiled. "When I was older I wanted to figure out how they worked."
"Yes, you did," Elizabeth said, smiling fondly. "You took apart more than one trying to figure out the secret."
"I can't believe you had so many."
Elizabeth smiled. "I got them when a local bakery in Norfolk was closing down."
"Oh, that's right," Catherine said, remembering.
"This nice older couple was retiring and they used to wrap up their boxes with those ribbons. They had several boxes of them left and they gave them all to me. I had given them a loaf of bread the previous Christmas."
"Each of those boxes must have had a least a hundred ribbons," Catherine said.
"Two hundred," Elizabeth said. "So they lasted a long time. And the boxes were fairly small so they weren't hard to move from place to place." She sighed. "I've never found anything quite like that again."
"Hmm …" Catherine said thoughtfully as she looked at the loaves she'd wrapped.
Ang laughed. "I know that face." She looked at Elizabeth. "She'll have found a case by Christmas and you'll have enough for the next thirty years."
"That's our girl," Elizabeth said, grinning.
"It certainly is."
They heard the front door open and a moment later Joseph appeared in kitchen doorway. "Look who Angie and I found on our walk," he said, indicating Steve behind him who now held Angie. He looked back at his son-in-law. "I told you you'd know exactly what they were doing as soon as we got close."
"Can't forget that delicious scent," Steve said with a nod.
"Ahhhehhhh," Angie said, kicking her legs against his torso.
"Hi, baby girl," Catherine said, moving swiftly to join them.
Joseph smiled, taking a step back so she could reach her daughter and husband.
Catherine took Angie from Steve, leaning up for a quick kiss from him before pressing her lips to her daughter's head. "Mmm, did you have a good walk with Grandpa?"
"Baaaah," she replied, reaching one hand into Catherine's hair.
Catherine expertly loosened her grip as she turned back into the kitchen. "Did you see all the bread your grandma and great-grandma have made today?"
"You know, when we were back in New York packing up and settling everything with the house, more than one person mentioned they'll miss the annual pistachio bread," Joseph said, smiling.
"I'm not surprised," Steve said, plucking a slice from a plate. "This stuff is practically addictive."
"You're right about that," Joseph agreed. "And it was the same every time we moved. At least one person would mention the bread." He smiled. "There are people all over the country, heck, all over the world who love it." His smiled grew soft. "I always missed it when I was overseas for Christmas." He reached for his wife's hand and smiled at his daughter. "One of many things I missed."
Elizabeth leaned over and gave him a brief kiss. "So I always froze a loaf for you. For when you came home."
He nodded gratefully, kissing her back.
"Any idea how many loaves you made over the years?" Steve asked.
Elizabeth laughed. "I couldn't even begin to guess."
"At least a thousand," Ang said.
"Catherine's made it every Christmas since moving here," Steve said.
She grinned, looking around. "Not on this scale, but a few batches. Grace even helped a couple years ago."
"Kaitlyn's going to make some with us tomorrow," Elizabeth said. "A whole new generation enjoying the tradition."
At the mention of a new generation, Catherine looked at Angie and smiled, her eyes glistening with the hint of tears. Steve caught the look and ran a hand across her lower back.
"What is it, honey?" Elizabeth asked.
"I'm just so happy," Catherine said. "Angie is going to grow up knowing this wonderful scent and associating it with Christmas." She smiled through her tears. "With Christmas and with her grandma." She felt Steve kiss her head and shared a quick smile with him before looking back at her parents and grandmother. "She's going to have all these wonderful memories of holidays together because you're here. And for the first time in so many years, we're all going to be together for Christmas. It's a dream come true."
As Ang and Joseph looked on happily, Elizabeth stepped over and embraced Catherine gently, one hand on Angie's back as she did. "For us, too, honey. A dream come true for us, too."
Hope you enjoyed! You can find the pistachio bread recipe on our Tumblr page (mcrollintherealworld dot tumblr dot com)
Note: This story is an homage to my mother who has probably made a thousand loaves of pistachio bread over the years. I know there are so many people who recognize that special foil-wrapped shape and look forward to it every year. Thank you for passing the recipe and the tradition on. To me, it will always be the scent of Christmas.
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