December at the farm; How my cooking began
By Kim Hayes
December has a way of pulling me backward, in the best possible way. Before the farm, before wood-fired pizzas and long communal tables, my love of cooking began in two very different kitchens, guided by two extraordinary women, my grandmothers.
Grandma Paula was my daytime caretaker when I was young, and she was a healthy eater long before it was fashionable. She made her own granola and yogurt, grew sprouts on the counter, and taught me that food could be both nourishing and intentional. She also taught me one very important life lesson early on: be afraid of the pressure canner. To this day, I still am.
Her approach to food was quiet and steady. Practical. Thoughtful. Rooted in care.
Summers, however, belonged to Grandma Dorothy.
Grandma Dorothy was the entertainer. I spent long summer days at her lake home, where bridge club gatherings were events, not just get togethers. Together, we cooked whatever was new and exciting in Better Homes and Gardens. I vividly remember when the Jell-O poke cake became all the rage, proudly served with a very “healthy” tub of Cool Whip.
Every gathering was planned with her “ladies” in mind, from the menu to the timing to the presentation. Watching her taught me that food is about hospitality, anticipation, and making people feel considered.
Both of my grandmothers were immigrants. Grandma Dorothy was Swedish. Grandma Paula, well, that is still a bit of a mystery. My dad always claimed she was Polish, but I have never actually heard the full truth. What I do know is that both women passed down traditions that shaped me far more than recipes ever could.
Every year, they taught me how to prepare for Christmas.
Grandma Dorothy made Swedish potato sausage by hand called Kurv. Grandma Paula taught me the secret of krumkake. I inherited her krumkake iron, and I still make them for our family today. She always filled them with freshly whipped cream, never Cool Whip, and a teaspoon of lingonberry sauce.
Simple. Perfect. Unforgettable.
Those lessons about food, preparation, and care live on here at Alpha and Omega Farm. They show up in the way we gather, the way we cook, and the way we slow down long enough to truly be together.
As we move through this season, we pray your family traditions are alive and well. We hope you find moments to slow down, gather close, and remember the reason for the season.
From our farm to your table, Merry Christmas.
Kim
Alpha & Omega Farm is located in Princeton, Minnesota. The farm hosts regular pizza events featuring wood-fired pizzas made with locally sourced ingredients (pre-orders required), as well as special events throughout the season. To discuss hosting your next event at Alpha & Omega Farm, contact Kim at alphaomegapizzafarm@gmail.com or visit alphaomegafarm.co. And no, that’s not a typo—it’s .co, not .com