Food Tales

It's that wonderful time of the year – that time when I start edging my summer clothing toward storage and pulling out the heavier stuff. I really hate having to give in to the changing of the seasons this time of year! We've had a beautiful sunny day, in spite of the forecast....but it's cool and we'll top out in the low 60's. I finally made the pot of soup I've been wanting.

It's always funny the different trends we get in – like feeling I need to wait until cool weather to make soup or chili. I think it goes back to how you were raised. I know people who make soup and chili in the summer. But somehow, for me, that's just wrong! But then I realize I feel the same way now about ham and beans......and I grew up having those on Mondays when it was “wash day”, regardless of the temperature. Thoughts of certain foods inspire childhood memories – and I'm sure your families are like mine, some are more mainstream....and others are “out there”.

When I was very small, we spent a lot of time with my Dad's brother and his family. One of the “delicacies” my aunt would make for me was a ketchup sandwich. No kidding!! Ketchup on bread. I loved it. I think it was developed one time at their house when I was hungry and they were pretty low on groceries. That aunt had a real knack for convincing me something was special and fantastic!

Dad had two aunts in the small community of Coloma who had helped Grandpa raise Dad and his brothers. Dad was close with both of them, and we visited their homes a lot. I remember Aunt Cora being a very good baker – for some reason, I remember cherry pies and brownies. She made incredible brownies – and I think she put coffee in them. I hadn't seen anyone do that before.

Aunt Georgia's house was a little less, shall we say, structured. Oftentimes her home seemed on the verge of chaos – not that it actually WAS, but I think it was more her personality. She was the baby of the brother and sisters, and she'd raised five kids of her own as well as having Dad and his two brothers there a lot.

It was at Aunt Georgia's house that I first had a bread-butter-and-sugar sandwich. I'm not quite sure if it was Aunt Georgia who served me that – or her oldest daughter Frances......while Aunt Georgia had my parents occupied in another room. I loved that delicacy, though I don't remember Mom being particularly thrilled about my being fed straight sugar.

I don't think I ever tasted Aunt Georgia's homemade mincemeat – but I remember one year she made some and her husband, Uncle Jim, complained that she didn't exactly get the ingredients in the proper proportions..........in fact, his words were that it was the only pie he ever needed to put ketchup on!

She pretty well cooked anything she wanted to, and Uncle Jim ate it – in spite of having no teeth. I saw him crunch a juicy apple, bite down on popcorn balls. It was fascinating to watch him manage. The family story goes that at a young age (young being rather subjective, because he was always old to me!) he lost his teeth and couldn't get used to his dentures.....the dentures didn't survive and Uncle Jim learned to eat corn on the cob and anything else he wanted to.

Memories of food at home always include the legacy of an incredible milk cow. She gave more milk than the three of us could keep up with at some times. I remember the summer of cottage cheese – there was always a pan of milk in the process of turning into cottage cheese. There was a winter of homemade ice cream when Dad kept water in the stock tank and cut the ice for us to use in the ice cream freezer. My cousin, his wife and little girl stopped by our house every Sunday evening and we'd make a freezer of ice cream. It was tough to explain to Debi why we couldn't make ice cream when it got warm enough outside that there wasn't any more ice.

One fall Dad had an overabundance of watermelon and they were piled against a tree in the yard. When winter arrived, that same cousin was at our house and Debi kept asking for watermelon. We held her up to the door to show her there were no watermelon in the yard. Her response was a very sincere, “Uh-huh – see – little bitty ones!” It's kind of hard to argue with that kind of logic!