Wednesday - 10/7/2009 Food

From my earliest memory, food was a major focus in my life. I learned to cook at a very young age. At one point in my childhood I cooked almost every night. My parents both worked outside the home and since I arrived home first, it was assumed that I would make dinner. There were times when my mom would leave a check made out to the grocery store on the kitchen counter. I would ride my bike the 2 miles to the store, shop for dinner, ride back and have it ready when my mom and dad came home. I learned to cook almost anything; turkey with stuffing, Coho Salmon on the grill, Firehouse Chili and everything in between. Some of my best culinary education came from the firehouse and the firemen who worked with my dad. My mom gave me the freedom to experiment in the kitchen. She was kind and gave all us kids a bit of a wide berth when it came to cooking. If you ever meet my mom and want to see a great older lady go pale in a heartbeat… ask her about the year we kids prepared green scrambled eggs, green butter, green home fried and green orange juice for her and our dad for St. Patrick’s Day brunch. Little did I know of the green beer consumption the night before. Just imagine the conflict… your children’s beaming faces, a tray of …green, everything. A raging hang-over, head, stomach… do you eat it? My poor parents. As an adult, I still get a warm, calm feeling when I am outside in the winter, cold and tired and I can smell pot roast or meatloaf wafting through the evening air. We’ve all stepped out of our cars on one of these evenings and had the aroma swirl up in to our nose and we start to pray… please God, let that smell be coming from my house. The summertime BBQ can cause the same desire in me.

The first time my late husband invited me to his apartment for dinner was in a word, interesting. He told me he was cooking and we were having steak and salad. I love a good steak, medium rare. I was really excited when I arrived at his very sparsely furnished apartment. He didn’t have a dining table nor did he have a sofa. He had one dilapidated, old, ripped leather recliner. The chair stayed with us for a few years, affectionate named the “whipcliner”. You could recline but to recover from being stretched out could cause whiplash. So that night we sat on the floor and had our dinner. Now I like to think I’m an adventurous eater. I’ll try new things and usually have an open mind. But I like to know before the unique foodstuff is actually in my mouth. I thought about having a really good steak all day. When I arrived at his home I was met with a glass of wine and a wonderful aroma of grilled onions, garlic and pepper. The salad was like no salad I had ever seen before. It was based in cottage cheese. It has become one of my favorite foods of all time. He took a carton of large curd cottage cheese. Chopped up green peppers, red peppers and yellow peppers. He also chopped up onion, tomato and celery. Mix this all with a few tablespoons of Miracle Whip, salt and pepper to taste. Fabulous! Good to know that it is better the 2nd day but not as great the 3rd or 4th day. So my expectation of a nice lettuce and tomato salad was way off but delightfully so. Next came the steak. It looked a little different but it smelled good so I made the first crucial cut, stab and dip in to A1. Once in my mouth, I knew something was, not wrong but unexpected. All I could think of was what did he do to this steak? But I went with the flow and ate the steak. As we were cleaning up, he mentioned that he was surprised that I liked venison. I like venison? Over the course of the next few years, I did learn to like venison. I became a very good venison chef. Fajitas, stroganoff and chili became my signature dishes in the winter months. My husband was an excellent cook. I will miss his “Soup Sundays” this winter. I used to work on Sunday and would arrive home to wonderful smells and delicious soups during the cold winter months. He would always accompany his soup creation with homemade rolls or bread. I especially loved the nights when I arrived to find not only the soup but a crackling fire in the fireplace. I really do miss my Sunday evenings with my husband. As it gets colder, I’m sure I’ll miss them even more.

I have cooked for the same people for the past 30 years. I knew who liked what and with what. I knew who would need catsup or pepper. I knew who like a big breakfast and who preferred yogurt and granola. So now what? Will I have the opportunity to learn these things about someone special again? Is there a chance that there is someone out there who is just waiting to have my famous homemade ultra rich Cheesecake made especially for them on their birthday? Will I be smart enough to know him when I find him?

I hope so…