The bookstore was at least as old as Granny. As she opened the door, a bell tinkled somewhere in back. The smell of musty, dusty used books filled the air. Donning her bifocals, she headed to the cooking section. It didn't take long for her to find something. "Recipes of the Auld Sod". The book was ragged and dog-eared, just like her.
"I'll give you a quarter for this book, sir,” her thin voice quavered as she called to the shopkeeper. He looked at it and nodded his approval. She paid for the book and hastened home as fast as her arthritis would allow. Sitting in her little living room, she thumbed through the pages, eagerly looking for something to bake. Suddenly a handwritten recipe wedged between the pages fluttered out, ‘Lucky Irish Pound Cake,’ it read. She nodded and smiled as she read it.
Each cake had a silver dollar embedded in it for the lucky recipient. ‘Good thing I have a collection of silver dollars.’ she thought. ‘This is wonderful; I’ll make it for Jilly and Benny.’ She baked every weekend and put the cakes and cookies out on the kitchen table, hoping that her son Jerry and his family would drop by. They never did. Every Sunday evening her loneliness and depression grew just a bit more intense. Each Monday she gave the cookies or cakes to the children’ home a block away.
As she read the recipe, one ingredient didn’t’ seem to fit. “Four cups of flour, two cups sugar, two cups butter, two teaspoons baking powder, one-half teaspoon salt, one shamrock leaf, six large eggs, one teaspoon
flavoring extract and one silver dollar."
Shamrock leaf? What on earth for?
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