On The Lighter Side

The world has gone crazy and the news is so depressing lately. That’s why I decided to write about a happier subject today.

Food.

This is part of a lemon meringue pie I made at Thanksgiving this past November. I love the way the meringue curls and browns just so.

There’s something comforting about a tried and true recipe.

Maybe it takes you back to your childhood, a simpler time and place when your parents did all the worrying that needed to be done.

Maybe it reminds you of a special event or a special person.

A good hot dog in a natural casing on a bun with ketchup takes me back to long ago summers. A snappy dog always hit the spot after a day swimming at the community pool.

Fruit salad in a bowl carved out of a watermelon also says summer.

My grandsons and I made a lasagna last year. We made our own sauce.

For two days, my kitchen smelled like my mother’s kitchen did when she taught me how to make lasagna so many years ago.

My mom used to make clam chowder when we were kids, too. It’s become one of my husband’s favorites.

I remember her making what she called dough gods with the chowder. They were pieces of dough all golden and bubbly hot out of the frying pan and buttered.

When the hubbs saw a cooking show where they were making popovers, he thought they looked interesting and he asked me to make some.

I made some with bacon, cheese, and green onions and they were delicious. After that, they were our new go-to to have with chowder.

How about meatloaf. A childhood favorite. I always asked for it on my birthday. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn. Always good on a chilly November evening.

Then there’s Aunt Helen’s Broken Glass Torte. She always brought one at Christmas and I carried on the tradition with my family.

Ladyfingers on the bottom and around the sides, it’s filled with a mixture of pineapple juice, gelatin, and whipped cream with squares of different colors of jello folded in.

Of course, moving to the south, I gained a whole new set of recipes. Like fried okra. (Who knew I’d love okra?)

My mother-in-law was an awesome cook and she was very generous in sharing her cooking with me.

Fried okra, chicken livers, her vegetable soup, and especially my all-time favorite recipe she shared with me–her cornbread dressing. I make it every Thanksgiving without fail.

The sweet potato casserole. The chocolate pie. Her brownies.

She made these fried chicken thighs that were to die for. I don’t even care for dark meat, but these were exceptional. Unfortunately, I’ve not been able to duplicate them,

She also made this sour cream cake that we make fairly often. Another of my favorites. It also makes a great base for strawberry shortcake.

During my parents later years, I’d cook for them when I was home. One of my mom’s favorites was a chuck roast with the bone in. I’d bring some home with me from beef we raised on our farm because she could only find the boneless roasts anymore.

I’d fix it for supper one night with the carrots, onions, and potatoes then make beef barley soup out of the leftovers the next day. She always loved it.

My dad, well, if he had a stack of potato pancakes and some applesauce, he was a happy camper.

That always brought him back to his childhood when his mother would make potato pancakes for him when he came home from school for lunch.

He could smell them halfway down the block and would run the rest of the way home.

How satisfying it was to be able to take what I learned growing up in my mother’s kitchen and use it to care for my parents while I had the opportunity.

~~~

It’s the smell of homemade bread in the oven, the smell of a pot of sauce simmering on the stove, the smell of hot dogs on the grill.

It’s the smell of love.

The smell that says you’re home.

P.S. I made sausage gravy and biscuits for breakfast this morning. My son is bringing the kids over on his way to work.

Now we’re prepared to face the day, whatever it brings…

~~~

Do you have any favorite foods that mean something to you?