By Tank Hoover

Grandma always had her Christmas party the first Saturday after the 25th. Having six children, it didn’t take long for the benches at the long table in the basement to fill up with grandkids, then great grandkids and more. There was nothing fancy or special about her party, but it was so special to me. It was a huge spattering of aunts, uncles and cousins mixed with a potluck lunch consisting of good, home-cooked country dishes. Being raised on the farm, everyone knew how to cook. Great food and lots of it!

As the group grew, throwaway Chinet paper plates replaced regular plates, so washing after the meal wasn’t necessary. Besides, it was more about being together than eating off of Grandma’s antique plates.

Grandma always made a large turkey and 20 pounds of mashed potatoes, while the rest of the family complimented the meal with side dishes and desserts of their own making. The whole meal was nothing fancy, but the atmosphere was magical. Everyone loved Grandma’s Christmas party and the mood and mingling proved it! It was alive with lots of laughing, tasteful teasing and just plain catching-up. At its peak, 60 or more people showed up. Grandma’s main helper was my Aunt Connie.

Entering Grandma’s house, you would almost be knocked over by the aroma of baking rolls and other goodies as the warmth hit your face when you opened the door. Connie would be in the kitchen, a blur of busyness and hard work. While boiling the taters, she would bake the rolls and cook the corn, while icing a cake. She was a little eccentric, in a good sort of way, and everyone loved her nervous nelly notions. We all pitched in, but Connie was the catalyst of the kitchen, making sure it was done and done right. Besides doing the day’s cooking, she helped grandma bake an avalanche of Christmas cookies, pies and cakes, and it all started the day after Thanksgiving.

As a kid, and later still, as an adult, I remember sneaking down to Grandma’s freezer during hunting season and pinching a few cookies before bed for “good luck” on opening day eve of buck season. They were always there, stuffed in round plastic gallon ice cream containers.

Lastly, Connie would make her famous peanut butter fudge. It was worthy of any royalty and its secret ingredient was marshmallow fluff. It was a mouth-watering moist that melted in your mouth, and always made you feel like a kid, no matter what age you were. It was always one of my favorites that I looked forward to, after the wonderful meal with my Aunts, Uncles and cousins, and Connie knew it.

Tank’s “Connie Gun” with some peanut butter fudge posed in front.
The recipe is the same — but its not really, not without Connie making it.

As I got older and had a family of my own, as I would leave a get-together, I would always find a half-gallon ice cream container sitting on the front seat of my car, complete with a red bow on top, filled to the brim with her peanut butter fudge. This went on for years, and I would thank my Aunt Connie, and joke that the “Fudge Fairy” had struck again. It was a longstanding joke between us, and one I miss today.

As you know, nothing lasts forever. Aunt Connie died about 10 years ago. She never had children of her own, as her marriage ended early in divorce. But she loved her many nieces and nephews and was very generous with them. They were, essentially, all her kids too.

Even though she would jokingly complain about all the work involved for the Christmas party, I think she had the most fun of all. Everyone loved Connie, as they so openly joked and teased her. Her famous response was shaking her head, laughing and saying, “Eye, yi, yi,..!” She was a true treat of a woman who shared her love with sugary treats.

When she died, she split her estate among her 37 nieces, nephews, brothers and sisters. It was the first time I had ever received an inheritance of any kind. Many of my cousins used it for down payments on first homes, or bought new cars, or just saved it. Me? I used a small portion to treat myself and remember Connie with a special gun. The rest went into my daughter’s college account.

“What gun would it be?” I thought to myself. More an accumulator than collector, my guns are far from safe queens. They are shot and shot hard. It had to be a special gun, one I wouldn’t normally spend on myself. One day while perusing my neighborly gun store I saw it! It was a Freedom Arms Model 83, field grade, which has the brushed finish, perfect for hunting. It had just been placed in the used gun display case. It was chambered in non-other than the potent .454 Casull.

Being used, and barely shot, it was quite a bargain. Freedom Arms are the Cadillacs of big bore single action pistols. It was the perfect Connie gun, one that would immortalize her and be worthy of her specialness to me. Whenever I pull it from the safe, shoot it on the range, or pack it over hill and dale on hunts, I’m reminded of Connie, her generosity, her love for family — and her peanut butter fudge.

Many have tried duplicating her peanut butter fudge recipe, but it just isn’t quite the same as Connie’s, which I guess only makes it right. It was her signature sweet treat and if it could be so easily duplicated, it wouldn’t be so special. I’m forever grateful for Aunt Connie —“The Fudge Fairy” — and the one last treat she made possible for me to remember her by.
Eye, yi, yi…!

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