It was an incredible joy to share some of my mom’s story and a few of her recipes in a piece that appeared in the Seattle Times on Sunday. As I find myself saying more and more: when I talk about my mom and her recipe folder that I’m so lucky to have in my kitchen, I’m really talking about everyone who’s ever cooked something we feel a connection to. And when I point to her collection, it’s a celebration of whatever recipes we value and want to have in our lives, whether from decades past or a couple summers ago.
My experiences and stories are just the springboard I can use to reflect other similar stories, to nudge folks to contemplate their own recipe collections, and to share their stories and memories around food and recipes. I’ve really loved the notes I’ve been getting from friends, and comments I’ve seen from readers, after the piece was published.
Among them is a friend who was curious about the recipe box coaching mentioned in the piece. When I replied with a bit of detail about it, he lamented not having a recipe box “with some history to it.” I assured him there’s no requirement of family heirloom recipes in order to create a collection that holds meaning for him. We’ll be getting together soon to chat more about that.
And another friend told me that she’s been putting together recipe books for nieces, nephews and other young family members for birthdays. “It’s a great way to pass along family favorites,” as she says.
Another sent me a photo of his mom’s recipe box that’s been in his kitchen since she passed away about a decade ago, saying he uses is, and adds to it, regularly.
These are the kinds of things that warm my heart immensely and most definitely keep me motived in this obsession of mine!
One of the two recipes from my mom’s folder included in the article was the cheese cookies she made so very many times when I was a kid. There’s nothing particularly special about this recipe—there are countless similar concoctions out there that start with cheese, butter, and flour. They might be called cheese cookies, cheese crackers, cheese straws, or cheese biscuits as in an example below. (I think it’s pretty funny that the version below my mom wrote out doesn’t have a name at all.) They might be baked in balls, squashed first, sliced from a log, or rolled out and cut into strips.

There’s a touching story that goes with the recipe for Patti McGee’s Cheese Biscuits in Does This Taste Funny by Stephen Colbert and Evie McGee Colbert, about the role they played in Evie’s family. And in an interview I heard with the couple, Stephen told of how they figured into the first time he picked Evie up at their house for a date. As he wrote in the book, “They will always remind me of Patti’s enormous heart and her welcoming smile.” Her recipe is generally similar, though the butter melted before mixing, and a bit of egg white wash and a pecan half added before baking. (Here’s a link to the recipe they shared for that episode of Your Mama’s Kitchen they were on.)
Other versions I’ve found among my cookbooks include one in the 1961 The New York Times Cookbook by Craig Claiborne, a recipe for cheese straws that includes some milk and adds fresh bread crumbs in addition to the flour. The cheese straw recipe in the 1969 The Cooking of the British Isles (in the Time-Life Foods of the World series) recipe booklet adds an egg yolk and bit of water to the butter-cheese-flour dough. And I almost forgot I’d had a recipe for blue cheese straws in my Salty Snacks cookbook—similar, in spirit, to Mom’s recipe, though the dough rolled out and cut into pieces about 4 inches long and 1 inch wide.
Though the ingredients and preparation of my mom’s recipe might not be special, the fact that it was written out by my mom, that it’s one she cooked often, that it’s one I associate with gatherings at our house, with hospitality, with the joys of cooking for family and friends. That’s what makes it worth cooking, worth preserving, worth sharing with its story. (More on celebrating seemingly not-that-special recipes in this earlier post.)
One of the other things that makes a recipe like this worth preserving is the freedom to make a few tweaks, give it a bit of new life for today. A friend said she’d be making the cheese cracker recipe that I shared in that article, adding “I bet they’d be good with mix-ins too. Chives? Olives? Bacon bits? Pimentos?”
Indeed!
Years back when I started making those cheese cookies myself, I’d made a couple initial changes—butter in place of the oleo and grated sharp cheddar instead of the jarred cheese. And I make mine larger than marble-size, as Mom specified in her version. Otherwise, the results were pretty close to how I remember hers, down to the cross-hatch pattern made with a fork before baking.
In the spirit of the generational evolution of recipes, I used that recipe as a starting point for a version I put in my book Gourmet Game Night. For a little flavor variety, I added chopped green olives to the dough. And I opted to simplify forming the crackers a bit, too, to help make game-night prep easier. Instead of rolling individual balls of dough, I formed the dough in a log to chill and slice for baking. Oh, and there I shifted the name from “cookies” to “crackers.”
Five or six steps away from the recipe mom scribbled on that faded, tattered piece of paper so many years ago. And still, these crackers I made yesterday carry me back to that childhood kitchen, to visions of my mom there cooking, to imagining her sitting down at a table one day decades ago, grabbing a pencil, and jotting down “2 1/4 c flour 2 sticks oleo 1 (small) jar sharp cheese…”


Olive and Cheese Crackers (from Gourmet Game Night)
I ended up making yet a couple more adjustments from the original recipe with yesterday’s batch. Though there’s often some aged Kerrygold sharp cheddar in my fridge, right now I just have Gruyère. And lacking pimento-stuffed olives, I pitted and chopped some Castelvetrano olives instead.
It occurred to me that this version also ends up being something of a riff on the retro cheese-wrapped baked olives that are outstanding for a cocktail party snack—same ingredients, more or less, with the cheesy dough wrapped around whole olives before baking. Here’s one such version from the New York Times, though the dough’s slightly different with the addition of an egg. These look so good, I’m adding them to the list for my next party here at the house.
3/4 cup finely chopped pimento-stuffed olives
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup finely grated sharp cheddar cheese
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Dry the olives a bit on paper towel, then toss them with 1/4 cup of the flour, working quickly to evenly coat the olives without the flour clumping.
Cream together the butter and cheese in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Working at low speed, blend in the olives, salt, and cayenne. Gradually add the remaining 2 cups of flour, working just until it is evenly incorporated and the dough begins to pull together.
Transfer the dough to a 20-inch piece of waxed or parchment paper and form the dough into a log about 1 3/4 inches in diameter. Wrap well and refrigerate for about 1 hour.
Preheat the oven to 400 F. Set 2 oven racks on the centermost levels. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats.
Unwrap the dough and cut it into about 3/8 inch slices. Arrange the slices 1 inch apart on the baking sheets. Bake until firm and lightly browned around the edges, about 15 minutes, switching the pans about halfway through for even cooking. Let cool for a few minutes on the baking sheets, then transfer the crackers to a wire rack to cool completely.
Makes about 4 dozen crackers
OK, I'm not a big olive fan, but I do love a good slice-and-bake cookie/cracker! I'm going to make these soon! Thanks for taking the time and effort to add a twist to your mom's recipe.
Love these variations!