My Father and the Mennonite Community Cookbook

I have a love story to share—a story of love, faith, traditions, and family.

Mom pointed out to me that she had jotted her own inscription in the book “A gift for my 27th birthday from my husband.”

My father and mother were one of the most in-love couples I have known, for their whole lives. They were romantic and didn’t mind showing it, even to the groans and guffaws of their kids. Oh yes, they and we had our share of problems—but not often verbalized (which can be a problem itself). But growing up, it made for a pretty harmonious household.

In the last couple years I have new evidence of Dad’s romantic and generous attachment to my mother, with a gift he gave her for her 27th birthday, just six months before I was born. The gift cost $3.95: not much in today’s dollars, but in 1951 I figure that would be like spending close to $50—again, maybe not much as typical birthday expenditures go, but for a relatively young farmer, just five years past the end of World War II (and 10 years past the worst of the Depression in which his father lost his farm), $3.95 was a big deal.

A couple years ago Mom casually said to me, “Would you want my old copy of Mennonite Community Cookbook?” She had long ago fixed up the tattered binding with duct tape—thereby ruining any antique value for a book that has become a collector’s item. (Thank the Lord she didn’t haul it off to The Depot thrift store in her town!)

I was happy to get my hands on that 1951 edition, but didn’t know much more about the book or author, Mary Emma Showalter, and how her path might have crossed with my father’s in an unusual service assignment Mary Emma had during World War II. Was that why he was willing to spend $3.95 from his farm wages for a birthday gift for his wife? Had Mom asked for the cookbook? Mom pointed out to me that she had jotted her own inscription in the book “A gift for my 27th birthday from my husband.”

This past year I worked on the publication of a new edition of Mennonite Community Cookbook in honor of its 65th anniversary for Herald Press. The marketing team and editorial director proposed new food photos, but otherwise not to change a thing: we wanted to maintain the wonderful stories that Mary Emma Showalter herself wrote into the book, the artistic sketches of life in her mother’s and grandmother’s era by artist Naomi Nissley, and the Fraktur and antique look of the cover. But we wanted to go back to the original copy of the cover, if possible. Over many years of reprinting—at some point even copying copies of copies—the cover had taken on kind of a weak, puny color and a fuzzy look.

As I tried to dig up who had the original cover (not the digital file), I became excited about ruffling through the rich files. Eventually the artist’s husband, Alexander “Sandy” Limont, told me that as he researched his own records, he remembered that it had disintegrated after having been pasted up and patched over too many years. He did send an excellent original book jacket—which we also had on file—and the designer scanned the book jacket to create a greatly enhanced cover.

After reading so much fascinating history on the author, I proposed adding some pages to the back of the book that would describe the history of the book for its many admirers (nearing a half million sold over the years). The key thing that drew me was how Mary Emma was much more than a cook and cookbook author. A woman of firm faith convictions, she worked in Civilian Public Service (CPS) as a cook and ended up becoming a trainer of camp cooks—in some cases teenage boys. She did such a great job with her cooking school that leaders sent her around the country to other CPS camps to offer training for the men. In fact, it was this wide exposure to Mennonite cooking in many different communities and in noting the traditions they observed—some very similar, and some quite different—that Mary Emma became inspired to compile her famous cookbook.

I know that my Dad often talked about the many church leaders who came to their camps to lead Bible studies and teach church history and theology especially as it related to pacifism and nonresistance. This was Dad’s “college” education. His formal education stopped at 8th grade, like many other Mennonite farm boys of the time. I don’t know if Mary Emma ever got to one of the four camps where Dad served over four years, or if he heard about her, but I can imagine that if he did it might have led to him buying the cookbook she eventually put together. Mother doesn’t remember if she requested the cookbook for her birthday, but guesses she might have hinted that she’d like a copy.

It was a sacrificial gift at the time, a truly romantic gift for the love of his life. As Mom’s third daughter, I was born just six months later. So you can see why this copy of the cookbook is special to me—and, as I’m learning, so special to thousands of cookbook owners across the United States, Canada, and even around the world.

Stay in touch all this anniversary year for multiple contests and giveaways of other Mennonite cookbooks by following the blog www.MennoniteCommunityCookbook.com and via social media, including Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram with the hashtag #MennoCooking. Or write to me for more info at Another Way, 1251 Virginia Ave., Harrisonburg, VA 22802.