The Gingerbread Jamboree

By Karen Ganger

The Gingerbread Jamboree is the second book of the Welcome Home, Arkansas series. Returning to the small Ozark Mountains community after two years, we find Charley Simson still struggling with his recovery from a near-death experience. He determines that making bread could be the best therapy and opens Pandemonium.

To boost economy

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Apr 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647533229

Karen Ganger

Karen Ganger lives with her husband near Seattle, Washington where her home is perched on a cliff over Puget Sound in sight of Mt. Rainier. Her career path included the medical field, retired casualty claims manager and historical archivist. She is an accomplished cook, gardener, traveler, cancer survivor, mother and grandmother. Her passion for over half a century has been to preserve cultural, historical and traditional recipes.

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THE GINGERBREAD JAMBOREE

KAREN GANGER

The Gingerbread Jamboree

Copyright © 2020 by Karen Ganger. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.

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Published in the United States of America

ISBN 978-1-64753-321-2 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64753-322-9 (Digital)

06.04.20

Also by the author:

The Prickleberry Pie Contest

Fryin’ Pan Serenade

Uff da! What’s Happening in Midnight Sun?

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Recipe IndexFor Nannie, my German Grandmother, who taught my family how to make and bake gingerbread.

1

It has been nearly two and half years since Charley inhaled the cherry pit that almost cost him his life. He was still on the mend. The lack of oxygen had caused enough brain damage that recovery was slow but, luckily, partially reversible and still progressing. Charley had to learn to walk again, his cognitive processes improved but he still had a residual weakness in his hands with a slight tremor.

Minnie Pearl, as promised, came every month for a week at a time and gave him physical therapy. She was instrumental with his recuperation, even if it did conflict with her busy schedule on Hee Haw and the Grand Ole Opry. He claimed she had become his guardian angel.

Every time the week was over, Minnie Pearl would say Why, next time I’m gone-ta rub yer legs jes’ like we do gettin’ a porker ready for the smoker. I’ll bring some Memphis style butt-rub and smack ‘em good. The spices in that’ll make ‘em tingly for a while! You’ll feel like runnin’ a marathon and you’ll be thankin’ me, sonny! Then she’d let out a crazy wa-hoo laugh and got in her car and drive off in that Dukes of Hazard kind of way. Charley and Francine always laughed and shook their heads as her countrified pick-up truck roared away.

Only the Lord knows why she drives that thing. Charley would say and they both would go back in the house. He always felt better after a week of workouts with Minnie Pearl and Francine always felt a little romance was in the air.

Minnie Pearl was not the only friend that had helped Charley and Francine after the incident. Julia Child, James Beard and Irma Bombeck were also in town as judges for the Prickleberry Pie Contest when Charley returned home from the hospital in an ambulance. Bulging from eating and judging all those pies took the gusto out of them from the experience and they lolled around Charley and Francine’s house for a couple of weeks. A few months after they left, both Julia and James simultaneously came up with a plan to help Charley with his weak hands and tremors: bake bread. Well, why not? It couldn’t hurt. It certainly helped strengthen his hands stirring and kneading and shaping loaves. Better than the doctor just saying it will take time, maybe. Francine took him to the Grocery Store every day and prodded Charley to focus on making bread. It was difficult at first since he still had to ambulate with a cane. Standing too long tired out his legs.

Rather than getting him discouraged, it only fired up Charley’s drive and ambition. One day, he took his cane and walked slowly across the town square to the Chuck-wagon Café. I have to meet a man. See you girls later! He said and left to speak with the café owner, Lou Evans.

There he goes, Francine, Pamela said as she watched him hobbling across the square. Look at him admiring everything. What a character. She mused in her best British accent.

Yeah, I know. See that look in his eyes? I think he’s got something up his sleeve and it’s not flour. Francine answered as she straightened jelly jars on the store shelves. Look at the color of this new muscadine jelly we just got in, it looks like sparkling Zinfandel, beautiful! As the sun shone through the store window, it cast a rainbow across the floor through the jelly jars, as she glanced up and out the window watching Charley enter the Chuck-wagon Café.

What do you think he went over there for, dear? Pamela asked.

I really don’t know. Maybe he’s lonely for some male companionship, hah! You know he and Lou are best friends. He’s probably tired of hanging around with us hens. He hasn’t been able to shoot the bull with his buddies since the incident. You know men are not good holding hands while guys are recuperating.

You got that right, Francine. I’ve never seen a man sit bedside while their friend is ill. Frankly, I’ve never even seen one hold onto another while they’re barfing their guts out, puking out some bad alcohol.

Pamela Winchester! When did you ever, Francine laughed, get involved with inebriates?

Oh, I’ve got stories to tell. But not today, we’ve too much to do. Pamela turned around and shoved a spatula under a cookie. She had the oddest smile on her face.

2

Francine remembered that day when Charley had returned from talking with Lou at the Chuckwagon Café.

Honey, I’ve decided to start my own business, he said to her.

"What do you mean start your own business? This is your business. This is our business. We’ve built this grocery, deli, bakery, this whole thing, into a thriving business. Charley, what’s got into you? Francine hotly asked. Hurt and anger started to boil up. You just can’t walk out of our business."

Please, listen to me. He said as he held both of her shoulders. "I’m not leaving leaving, I’m just expanding. Look, when I got sick, you and Pamela ran the show. You both still run the show. Pamela was so helpful to you, you’ve made her a partner, and that’s fine with me. It’s how it really should be. The two of you run a tight ship, everybody loves the shop and we make a nice income from it. But I’m still recovering. Sometimes I feel helpless, stupid, not whole. I blame myself. If I hadn’t been so dang full of myself, careless, this wouldn’t have happened."

Oh Charley… Francine choked back tears. Her blue eyes welled up and then a tear dripped.

I want to do this for me, for us. This is my penance, my recovery. I need to do this.

"What is it that you want to do? She rubbed his arm up and down, hoping that it would make everything ok.

I’ve talked to Lou. He’s going to lease me his storage area in the back of the café. It fronts the highway. You know the area that’s boarded up? It actually has large picture windows and a front door. On the opposite side of the square, I want to open a shop called ‘Pandemonium’. I want to bake bread and sell other prepared goods baked in pans. This is good therapy for me. I promise you, Francine. Think of it this way, first, it’s physical therapy for me. Second, we expand our operations and make more money. Third, we improve the square by opening another business. Fourth, we supply the café, the grocery and other businesses with the rolls and other products that we do now but don’t have the room for on a larger scale. I also promise you this, if it doesn’t work or help me at the end of one year, I’ll close it up. Deal?

Answer me this, Charley. Why couldn’t you just talk to me about this first? Why did you go and talk to Lou about it without consulting me? What makes you think you will succeed? It’s hard work.

Could you admit you’ve lost confidence in yourself? Could you admit you’re a failure? I’ve spent a lot of time soul-searching while I sat there helpless in my wheelchair. I want to get better. I want to be your husband. I want things to be the way it used to be. I took a leap of faith this morning. I just had to ask Lou, spur of the moment, that’s all. Frankly, to discuss something like this with you can be difficult. Wonder if I brought it up and we talked about it and then you shot me down. Do you have any idea of how that would make me feel? That’s why I had to act alone on my incentive. I have to make it work.

Charley had spoken in a somewhat aggressive yet whispering mode. It was difficult to have a private conversation with another person in the room. He looked over at Pamela while he spoke and noticed she was doing her best to try and be invisible.

I fully understand, honey, that you’ve had your moments. There’s no excuse for a pity party, which is what you’ve been throwing for yourself. No fun, is it? That’s not the man I’ve known and loved all these years. I always thought you were tough and could handle anything. You know the cliché, never give up. Charley, had you given up, you wouldn’t be here today. I love you but I’ll miss you every day. You have one year, that’s all, so … deal. Francine bent down and kissed his forehead.

Lou will help me get the place in order. I was actually doing him a favor, kind of. He’d been pressured from some guy from Memphis who wants to lease the space. Lou didn’t want to. He had a bad feeling about him. The guy wasn’t taking no for an answer. Now, Lou can feel a bit easier.

That whole conversation happened four months ago. Charley was now happily ensconced in Pandemonium. He had been open for the last three months. Business was slow but building. His confidence was building as well. His physical well being was slow but steadily improving as well. The demands exceeded his ability. So far, the experiment was working, but barely. Welcome Home Elementary School had asked Charley to supply dinner rolls for their school lunches. If it worked out, he’d score a contract to supply the middle school and high school as well. It kept him busier than ever. He came home tired and drained. Francine looked out the window, grabbed Charley’s coffee cup, poured it full and stepped out of the store. She headed across the square, cup in hand.

Hey, you! I have fresh coffee for my hunka-hunka-burnin’ love. She smiled as she entered his shop. Charlie was placing a tray of rolls on a rack to cool. She stood on her tip-toes and gave him a kiss.

Perfect! Charley said as he brushed his hands on his baker’s apron and grabbed the cup. I was just thinking how great a cup of coffee would taste right now. Here … he turned around and popped an orange roll out of a warm baking pan. These are really good. Look at the long shreds of orange peel. Best batch I ever made. He handed the warm orange roll which was starting to sag in the middle, still steaming. The icing was starting to melt. I’m going to put a second icing on these. They are the best after the first one melts in.

Mmmmmmh! Francine hummed while she scarfed down the warm roll. These are awesome. I need to ask you something. What are you planning for the Gingerbread Jamboree?

Well, when the Welcome Home City Council decided we should do this, I thought I might not participate, but then I thought I have to. What do you think of this? Charley turned and pulled out a decorated aluminum pan. I’m going to make a gingerbread cake like my mother used to make, a square pan of gingerbread about three inches high. She used to place a paper doily on top and sift powdered sugar on top. It always made a pretty design. I think I’ll do that. I ordered these special holiday pans that will make them holiday festive."

Oh Charley, that is so cute. I wish I had thought of it. Pamela will be so jealous! She is so doily- esque, that’ll really get to her. Plus being English, she is really into gingerbread. It is quite popular in the United Kingdom. We don’t know what we will do yet. Ivy’s Quilt Shop is baking miniature quilt ginger cookies. They look like real quilts. All decorated so cute. And the Flower Shop made cookies on sticks. They are like flowers on stems. Really genius.

I heard that the Welcome Home Community Church is baking gingerbread nativity sets. You and Pamela better get a-crackin’. Saturday, the square is being decorated for the holidays and the gingerbread sale begins. Oh, look, I think I have a customer coming in.

Okay, honey I need to relieve Pamela. Love you. See you for dinner. Francine blew a kiss and ran out the door. Literally skipping across the square, the air was cool and the last autumn leaves were turning color. The trees seemed to be raining forming a colorful carpet of leaves on the sidewalk. Francine kicked a few just as she had done as a young girl skipping home from school. They flew up with a shooshing noise landing on the top of her shoes. She felt carefree and internally happy. Something good was going to happen; she could just feel it.

Oh Pamela! It’s so beautiful outside. Fall is in the air! Francine sung as she flew into the grocery store. We are running out of time. We need to decide what we are going to do for the Gingerbread Jamboree. Any ideas?"

Well honey, I thought of something. We don’t have the time and hands to make gingerbread houses, but how about this? We live in the country, right? How about making little barns? We have cookie cutters of farm animals. What would be cuter than a little barn filled with a horse, a cow, a chicken, a lamb, a farm dog? Kids will eat the barns to get the animals. How cool is that? We can make a little decorated wreath to hang over the barn doors.

That sounds great! I guess we better start baking barns. They’ll take the longest. The animals will be quicker. Francine looked excited. What a great idea, Pamela.

Thanks. We’ll need to have at least fifty ready by Friday, the Gingerbread Jamboree starts then. I’ve asked my niece, Jennie, to help us, if that’s all right with you. We have so much to do. I’ll give her a phone call, maybe she can come over this morning. By the way, I brought out our Christmas decorations and strings of lights. We’ll need to decorate the shop too. Everything needs to be done by the time we close Wednesday night before Thanksgiving.

The Chuckwagon Cafe’s Gingerbread Cupcakes

½ cup shortening

½ cup sugar

2 large eggs

½ cup molasses

1 ½ cups all purpose flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. each of cinnamon, allspice and ginger

1 cup hot milk

Place cupcake papers into muffin pan. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Using an electric mixer, beat the shortening at medium speed until it is light and fluffy. Gradually add the sugar, beating in well. Then add the eggs and the molasses. Blend well.

In a medium size mixing bowl, combine the dry ingredients. Stir together so everything is incorporated.

To the shortening mixture, alternately add the dry ingredients, then the hot milk, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients.

Pour batter into prepared muffin pan with the cupcake papers. Bake for 8-10 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Allow to cool, then frost.

Brown Sugar Icing

1 cup packed brown sugar

2 T. butter

¼ cup milk

1 T. light corn syrup

¼ cup shortening

¼ tsp. salt

1 cups sifted powdered sugar

3 T. hot milk

Place the brown sugar, butter, ¼ cup milk and the light corn syrup in medium saucepan. Over medium heat, bring the mixture to 250 degrees Fahrenheit, or until a small amount forms a hard ball in cold water. Stir constantly when mixture starts to boil, then remove from heat.

Combine the shortening and salt. Gradually add the powdered sugar, creaming well. Then add hot milk. Gradually add the brown sugar mixture and beat until smooth and thick enough to spread on the cupcakes.

3

The Welcome Home City Council had started decorating the square for Christmas. The lumber yard had driven over a fork lift and a cherry picker to lift strings of lights into the semi-mature trees. A large blue cedar spread its’ limbs outward and took the shape of a perfect Christmas tree. Francine watched as one man placed a large shiny star on top, when suddenly a huge turkey vulture flew over and buzzed him. She watched the man flail his arms trying to shoo away the bird while he tried to decorate the tree. Then the star fell to the ground breaking off a couple points.

Wow, did you see that, Pamela? Francine asked. A big turkey vulture just buzzed Steve Kuyper putting the Christmas star up. It musta’ scared the hell out of him. He dropped the star and it fell. I think it’s broke. Look at that!

Both women stood and stared out of the store window.

Ooooh, that’s not a good sign, Francine. Oh, oh, look! He’s swooping down again.

Steve Kuyper was swatting at the big bird with his hands while standing perilously on the cherry picker. He took a pole and began some kung fu master moves, trying to keep the bird at bay. The bird kept moving in, this time using his claws to scratch the top of Steve’s balding head. Steve would swing his pole and the bird would hover up and down. Finally, he pushed the lever and lowered himself towards the ground.

Steve’s been defeated! He gave up. That’s rich. Those guys won’t let up on him now. They’ll have some fun bugging him about this for years to come. Pamela said with a smile on her face.

Well, we might as well start decorating ourselves. Francine said as they still glanced out of the window. The men were jibbing Steve and laughter ran rampant on the square. As the ladies turned away, the vulture swooped in and landed on the top of the cedar.

I’m telling you, Francine, that bird means trouble. Something bad will come of this.

Just then, Dink Grizzle’s 1949 Ford pick-up rumbled and screeched to a halt in front of Welcome Home Grocery. Dink exited the vehicle and he slammed the rusted door causing a loud creak and thump. He jumped onto the curb and reached for the door while turning his sights to the square. Dink, the epitome of a mountain man, had a rustic handsomeness, tall and well built, though his face was grizzly with white and gray whiskers, his striking blue eyes caught your attention.

Ma’am… mornin’ to ya. Ah’m to pick up a coupla them sammiches I had last week. Can ya hurry ‘em up? My stand is awaitin’

He stood there with his hands in his pockets and seemed to be ticking away every second.

Sure, Francine said. She caught a glimpse of Pamela making googly eyes at Dink. That was roast beef with Dijon mustard and horseradish, right?

Yes, Ma’am!

All right, I’ll have them ready in just a few.

Thanks, Ma’am, jes’ as quick as you can make ‘em. I gotta get me to my stand. The deer are gettin’ away.

I hear that. But aren’t you making a late start for hunting this morning?

Yes, Ma’am. Had a problem with a cow since the wee hours and that caused a mighty delay. Ah cain’t afford to lose a single minute when it comes to deer season.

Well, here you go. I added a couple bags of potato chips. They go with the sandwiches. That’s our outdoorsman special for $1.50 each. Also, I threw in a couple cookies for you, no charge. Hope you enjoy them.

Thanks, Ma’am! He dropped a fiver on the counter. Keep the change. As he moved to the door, he opened it and began stepping out. Strange omen that is, he said as his head nodded skyward towards the cedar tree.

The ladies nodded looking at the turkey vulture still perched on the cedar.

Pamela’s niece, Jennie, arrived at the store and the ladies started planning the gingerbread barn and farm animals. It soon became apparent this was too big a job and too little time.

I think we better make snowflakes instead. Why don’t we make a variety of snowflakes, frost them, sprinkle with sugar and hang them with festive ribbons? I think that will be whole less work. We can make tons more snowflakes than barns filled with animals. After we bake them, we can frost them with royal icing first. I have a special sparkle sugar, some Swedish pearl sugar, some Dutch cookie sugars and some others that will really make them special. We can hang them in the windows. Who wouldn’t want to buy them? They’ll look so festive. I think they will be the hit of the jamboree.

Francine, you’re right as rain. We were over-thinking it. Maybe it was too ambitious. Cute idea, but it’s not Christmassy enough. We can re-visit the barn when the rodeo comes to town next summer. What do you think, Jennie, are snowflakes okay with you? Jennie shook her head in agreement. That settles it then, snowflakes it is. I’ll go dig out snowflake cutters from the back storage room.

I’ll get set up over here. Jennie said as she cleared the prep table, brought out the sheet pans, rolling pin, and moved her big bowl of cookie dough closer. She wiped off the table and threw flour across it like a pro.

Francine and Pamela strung sparkling little white lights in the window and set up a small Christmas tree. Like busy bees between customers, the holiday inventory started moving to the front of the store where it was displayed so fashionably. Garlands lined the front of the shelves and when the baking commenced, the store held the heavenly fragrance.

My, it’s starting to look a lot like Christmas. Pamela offered as she tied red ribbons on the Christmas Tree. Too bad it’s not even Thanksgiving.

That’s one thing Charley and I always had a problem getting adjusted with. In the Ozarks, the Christmas décor has to be up and ready by Thanksgiving. In New York City, it’s still fall décor. They don’t bring out the holiday stuff until December the first. It was like that in Mississippi too. We always had our fall décor, gourds and pumpkins, until December first. It was always warmish. We needed a cold snap to get the winter spirit.

Well, the folks here sure get excited about Christmas. In the old days, they didn’t have much money, but they sure did have the spirit. Well, a lot of them still don’t have much money, but they make do.

Yes, they do. Oh, great segue, Pamela! What a reminder. I need to go to Boyd’s Turkey Farm and pick up our turkey and one for our needy family we are sponsoring. Don’t let me forget to go tomorrow. It won’t be Thanksgiving without a nice roast turkey to grace the dining room table. Are you sure you won’t join us for dinner?

Francine, it wouldn’t be a holiday unless Auntie Pamela is with us. Jennie offered. She can’t seem to stay away even if we don’t want her there. She laughed and gave a sly look to Pamela.

That’s right, they can’t get rid of the old bat, even when they try. Pamela chuckled. I make it harder on them every year. I’m like the old fruitcake that gets passed around every year. Still shows up even though nobody wants her. Then there’s a whole lotta moanin’ and groanin’. I like it when I hear ‘em complain. That’s when I know they still care about me.

Jennie hugged Pamela