My mother was amazing.
She was very artistic and could do wonders with her needlework. She was patient, kind and never panicked,
which made her an amazing nurse (not only professionally, but also to her
daughters). I don’t ever remember her yelling
at me – I loved her too much to do anything that would get me into any real
trouble. She was my best friend and, at
any age, I felt like I could tell her anything.
She had beautiful blue eyes that she rolled at the world often. But for her girls, she was always there with
a shoulder to lean on or, worst case, to cry on; there was never a shortage of
hugs, or encouragement. The pride that
she had in both my sister and me alike often gives me the motivation to keep
going and to strive to be the best that I can be.
However, we all have our Achilles heel, and she was a
terrible cook. For example, a typical
meal might involve something Stouffer’s refers to as S.O.S. It’s shaved “meat” of some kind in a creamy sauce. Stouffer’s packages it conveniently in plastic
so you bring a pot of water to a boil and cook the S.O.S. in it until it is
warmed through. Meanwhile, make
toast. Place the toast on a plate, with
the S.O.S. on top. For those of you not
in the know, “S.O.S.” stands for “shit on shingles”. Pretty accurate.
Another one of our staple meals was Tuna Noodle Casserole. While the exact details of this recipe are
lost, I know it included condensed-cream-of-something-soup, canned tuna, egg
noodles and (ew) potato chips to give it that nice crust on the top. My mother would cook this in an orange
oven-safe, round dish that was reminiscent of Le Creuset (but way not). This was not one of my favorite meals. When I asked what was for dinner, and she
said “Tuna noodle casserole”, I actually cringed.
Also, macaroni and cheese was another favorite. Not just straight up from the box (although
it was), but she would add things to it.
Sometimes it was sausage, which was OK.
Other days it was Spam, which, even as a child, I was not OK with. My dad would alternate his condiments on such
meals between ketchup and syrup. As an
adult, I alternate my Mac N Cheese topping between the two. I know how gross that sounds, but it’s pure
nostalgia to me! (Minus the Spam, of
course).
Lunch items were often grilled cheese sandwiches (with
Miracle Whip), Lipton chicken noodle (from the packet), Stouffer’s French bread
pizza, and pizza rolls. As an adult, after
a long day in the kitchen, these are tried and true guilty pleasures (although
I take a giant pass on the Miracle Whip).
Not every day staples in my diet, but I admittedly indulge in them from
time to time.
Other entrees included (but were not limited to) meatloaf,
which made me throw up once. Slumgullion,
which was not always that terrible. It’s
kind of a chili-mac thing – browned ground beef, kidney beans, tomato sauce and
some kind of pasta like macaroni or shells.
I am still a sucker for crunchy tacos which, out of the other possible
dinner options was always a welcomed treat!
I would take tacos any day over uber dry pork chops or Salisbury steak.
Side dishes were often frozen veggies heated in the micro
with butter. Salad always included
iceburg lettuce with a ketchup-based dressing that was a recipe of my Aunt
Elsie’s. On holidays, the go-to side
dishes were green bean casserole (the old-school one with the cream-of-whatever
soup and the canned, fried onions) and sweet potato casserole (again, old-school
with the marshmallows). Her potato salad
was always a hit, with celery, onion, bacon, hard cooked eggs, mayo … my grandmother’s
recipe, which I have actually adapted and improved a little bit.
But let us not forget dessert. If it was your birthday, she would more often than not cook a cake from a box. Nothing wrong with that! As kids, we never complained. The problem was that sometimes the cakes were raw in the middle! She would just cover up the sagging middle with more frosting. My poor mom.
But let us not forget dessert. If it was your birthday, she would more often than not cook a cake from a box. Nothing wrong with that! As kids, we never complained. The problem was that sometimes the cakes were raw in the middle! She would just cover up the sagging middle with more frosting. My poor mom.
And then there was her famous jello mold with the pineapple
chunks. She had a special Tupperware mold
she used, that had interchangeable bottoms that you could swap out according to
what holiday it was. If it was
Christmas, there was a Christmas tree one, etc.
It went on the bottom of the bowl, so when you unmolded it, the selected
design was on the top of the mold. She
was a nurse, and her first Thanksgiving with my dad, she made her jello
mold. She took it to work with her and
left it in the hospital refrigerator.
After her shift, she went and had dinner at my dad’s with my brothers (I
was not born yet). The following day,
one of the doctors she worked with approached her, giggling like a school
boy. “SANDY! So who got the suppository????” The answer was “no one”. My mother was mortified. As soon as she got off of work, she went to
my dad’s house to inspect the remaining jello mold and she saw the suppository right
on the edge, next to where the very last scoop had been taken.
Her food was not always terrible. In the summer, she liked to barbeque. We had a charcoal grill and she made pretty good hamburgers and grilled a killer New York steak. In the summer, we would go to farm stands where she would buy corn on the cob, tomatoes and green beans. Those meals were my favorites.
In short, people are always asking me what got me into
cooking. One would assume I was in the
kitchen with my mom, propped up on a stool and helping her bake chocolate chip
cookies. That pretty much never
happened. We made sugar cookies together
one year for Christmas and I got so frustrated at the end that I ended up
mixing all the food coloring together to get black frosting. No, I knew from a young age my mother could
not cook. I also knew I liked food and
my palate was pretty well developed at a young age from, well, being force-fed
things. I knew I wanted to cook better, so I learned. I started reading cookbooks. I traveled.
I went to culinary school, and upon graduation was the recipient of The
President’s Award. My motivation
throughout school was to make my mom proud.
Like I said, she always taught us to work hard and to try our best. Although she was a terrible cook (and a
victim of 70’s and 80’s cuisine), she inspired me to become a better one.
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