On a Winter's Day!

Powder in my face!

The crunch of snow underfoot. A glitter of frost dancing in the cold air. The rush of wind in your face as you fly down the hill. The unexpected tangle of limbs and sled at the bottom of the hill. If you have lived in Southwestern Ontario in the winter, then you have undoubtedly gone tobogganing as a child. It is a Canadian institution and a staple at our house in the winter; synonymous with skates, shinny and sticking your tongue to a metal post! Every year I make the trek to a local hill called Killer Hill with my kids. We go as often as possible and make the most of every visit-inviting friends and family alike. Our hill is a double hill with the top section being faster and more dangerous than the lower section. It has cow paths angled down the sides and one year my youngest son threw his inflatable into one of the tracks and flew down the path only to collide with an unsuspecting parent enjoying a cup of hot chocolate on the side of the hill. She lifted right off her feet and landed, hot chocolate and all on top of my son. Thankfully, the inflatable and my son cushioned her landing so no one was seriously hurt. At that moment I did not actually acknowledge him as my flesh and blood but perhaps my obvious enjoyment of the scene made it apparent to her who he belonged to. That year we had a larger inflatable that could hold approximately 8 young people and be easily made airborne if a large ramp was provided. Oh, what we would have done for such a conveyance when I was a kid! Only one trip to the hill resulted in injury. One year my second oldest daughter broke her thumb while riding with a friend. Perhaps it was because it was a strange hill and not our usual haunt. I took her to the doctor and watched him return the thumb to its rightful position on her hand. Not a scene I ever care to see again!
When I was a kid we tobaggoned on a hill close to a small country church with as many cousins and aunts and uncles as could be mustered on a Saturday afternoon. Wooden toboggans were the weapon of choice to conquer the hill! Our small black Lab, Daisy May, loved the sport as much as we did. She fought for the best position and sat proudly in the front of the toboggan, ears flapping and eyes squinting against the inevitable spray of powder, then sprang free of the mass of tangled children to grasp the rope in her mouth and drag the toboggan back up the hill. It wasn't that she wanted to be a help-she just wanted to get the thing back to the top of the hill as quickly as possible so she could ride again. In those days we may have had a sleigh with runners and steering or a metal flying saucer like the one that removed the bottom half of my brother's tooth when caught by the wind, but we were far more likely to have a cardboard box or piece of heavy plastic to aid our haphazard flight down the hill! If we could not make it to the local hill, then any slope would do: the bank of the local railroad tracks, a deep ditch that may have ended in a possible cold, wet landing or even the pile of snow pushed to the side of the laneway with the tractor. Was it just my imagination fuelled by a small stature or was there actually more snow when I was a kid? We had no high tech waterproof mittens or snowsuits with velcro wind flaps. Every conceivable winter accessory was made out of materials designed specifically to trap and melt snow and increase numbness, loss of feeling, chapped cheeks and frozen extremities. But we were a hardier lot than today's kids! We braved the cold for longer hours, in deficient outerwear and trekked farther afield in search of higher slopes.
These days we load the van to overflowing with various devices designed to hurtle you down the hill harder and faster. We never take drinks to the hill as drinks fill the bladder and filled bladders need to be emptied! However, we put the kettle on as soon as we return home and produce mugs of steaming hot chocolate with islands of melting marshmallows to scoop out with a spoon. In the old days, hot chocolate didn't come in a single serving package and I prefer to make it for a crowd in the same manner we made it as children-in a pot on the stove with milk, cocoa and sugar, brought to a near boil and whisked to creamy perfection. Something to wrap your tingly fingers around to thaw as you collectively replay the best runs of the day.

Hot Cocoa

Makes one cup.

1 Tbsp cocoa

1 Tbsp sugar

pinch salt

1/3 cup water

2/3 cup milk

Mix cocoa, sugar and salt in a small saucepan. Slowly stir in water. Heat and stir over moderately low heat until mixture boils then boil slowly, stirring constantly, 2 minutes. Add milk and heat to scalding but do not boil. About 190 Calories per serving.

Cocoa for a Crowd

Makes 12 servings.

Mix 3/4 cup cocoa with 3/4 cup sugar and 1/2 tsp salt in a large saucepan. Gradually stir in 1 qt warm water, set over low heat and heat, stirring occasionally, 8-10 minutes. Add 2 qts milk and heat to scalding. Serve in mugs, sprinkled, if you like with cinnamon or nutmeg or topped with marshmallows. About 190 calories per serving not including toppings.

From: The Doubleday Cookbook by Jean Anderson and Elaine Hanna