About

Fries

The Grathwol family loves food.  There’s no doubt about it.  Blueberry pie, caramel sauced cranberry cake, enormous Thanksgiving dinners… we do it all, and we do it well.  Lael started writing cookbooks for her children as a way to pass on these recipes.  Not recipes easily found in “Joy” (or rather, the bible), but Grathwol recipes.  She produced 2 versions, and the tradition was continued by her children in the most current rendition, “Salad Packs Down;” a catalog of our exquisite culinary refinement, family photos, stories, and late night creativity.    I referenced this cookbook often as an intrepid, young baker with too much time and ingredients I didn’t pay for, and I worked my way up to making the best ginger cookies I have ever eaten.  And now it’s time for it to be available to the iPad assisted cook and the younger generation, who doesn’t know what an index is and is confused by pages that don’t have an embedded google search bar.  They deserve food too.

But why a blog? We’re a pretty lively bunch, and think ourselves rather funnier than the next guy.  All the more reason to get a blog and share this with the world, eh? What a better way to spread announcements from Grathwols near and far, keep track of birthdays, maybe eventually post family songs… the possibilities are ENDLESS!  Submit away, ye Grathwols of long winded stories! (photos welcome too)

This is also for my dad.  He is impossible to buy presents for and I am sick of picking out ties, so I thought I would try to do something thoughtful and nice (for once.)  He is turning 54 this year, and I am counting down to his birthday with a new post as often as my fingers can type.  This is for you! (but don’t forget the rest of us, you cocky beast)

So here goes, the Grathwol family blog.  Drop by, stay a while, we’ll entertain you with drinks and lore.

Love and french fries,

Lizzie Grathwol

3 thoughts on “About

  1. Gab and good eating? I’m in, and happy to contribute recipes, wisdom (ha!) and good cheer. I’ll never forget my mother reading Bon Appetit in bed at night and saying to herself “mmmmmm.” Let the “mmmmmm’s” begin!

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