Biscuits and Donuts

My middle name is "Marie." My parents chose this name not because it is the most popular middle name in the world but after my great-grandma Marie. She is not my biological great-grandma—my grandpa was only three when his mother died from consumption (seriously, I'm not just saying that because it is an old-timey disease) and he married Marie shortly after. My dad has countless stories about this crazy Danish lady.

My dad is the second oldest of four boys. First there is Steve, then my dad, Roger, then Chris, and finally Clint. Yes, Marie was from Denmark and had a substantial accent but could speak English well enough. Even still, she never pronounced my father's name correctly, and referred to him only as "Rotney." My dad recalls birthdays and Christmas when Grandma Marie would send the boys a check as a gift. Four separate checks for $2.00: one for Steve, one for Chris, one for Clint, and one for Rotney.

One of my favorite stories was the time when my Dad was about 13 and Grandma was visiting from Wisconsin. "Rotney! Rotney! Come help your Grandma! Rotney!" she yelled with urgency from down the hall.

"What, Grandma?" Dad said as he rounded the corner into the room she was staying in. There she was, in all her octogenarian glory, naked as the day she was born.

"Ahhh, Grandma!" he yelled as he shielded his eyes.

"Get me my robe, Rotney." He did has he was told, but I don't think he has ever recovered from the visual.

Despite the fact that every time she saw my Dad she would tell him, "Rotney, you too fat!!" she was famous for her donuts and she happily made them for the boys during her visits. Of course she made the dough from scratch, fried them to perfection and doused them in sugar. Growing up, my dad made us a bastardized version of these donuts and instead of making his own dough he used Pillsbury Grands biscuits with the center punched out of them (still fried to perfection). I admit that there have been times when I've created a dinner menu based on these biscuits, not just because I want to eat them with dinner, but also because I want to make donuts out of the leftovers.

So, in the spirit of fall, I recently cooked a big pot of beef stew in the crock pot and at the suggestion of my mother made these biscuits. They were amazingly delicious and unbelievably easy to make. So easy in fact, that it seems I don't need to buy the ready-made kind anymore.

Of course, the downside of this realization is that now there are no longer any leftovers for donuts. So, I am not cutting Grands Biscuits off the shopping list for good. But maybe in the spirit of my great-grandma, who I never had the pleasure of meeting, I can try to make donuts from scratch as well.

The last time that my dad spoke to her on the phone as they were hanging up he said, "Jeg elsker dem, Grandma" which is "I love you" in Danish.

And her response, "Jeg elsker dem, Roger." She passed a away a few days later.

My Dad loved to tell stories about her. She seemed like a pretty neat lady and I am proud to share her name. I hope that maybe someday I can be a grandma like her...well, maybe without the flashing my grandkids part.

(Update: Apparently I had some of my facts wrong. My Dad has set me straight. Read on.)

Heather,
Thanks for the sweet story about my Grandma Marie. It brings back many memories.

The story is actually a bit more comical that you suggested. You are correct that she always called me Rotney (Which is Rodney with her extremely heavy Danish accent), however, every $2.00 check that she sent me for Christmas was made out to Robert Andersen.

It never bothered me that she called me Rotney and sent checks to Robert. As a matter of fact it provoked many laughs for my entire family. I was thrilled by the realization that the only time she ever called me Roger, was the last time she talked to any of us before she died. I wonder if she was just messing with me before that last call.

Chris and Clint (Clint particularly) still call me Rotney.

Rotney