Recipe for love

Recipe for love

Dad stopped in his tracks, inhaled deeply, smiled, and declared:

It smells like Mom!

No, I didn’t sneak a spritz from the perfume bottle that still sits on her dresser. And I didn’t raid their bathroom cabinet for shampoo or lotion.

Even better.

Gary and I had a pot roast simmering in the slow cooker.

I wish I’d taken a photo of the finished product. But then again, pot roast is not known for its photogenic qualities.

Sidenote: If you haven’t seen this collection of bad food photography by Martha Stewart, this is an absolute gas. Don’t check it out around mealtime, though.

Dad loves pot roast. His mom’s pot roast, my mom’s pot roast, my pot roast.

But especially’s Mom‘s.

She would smile even more than usual on pot-roast day, knowing how Dad would be extra happy to sit down to supper when he got home from work.

“Oh, boy! Pot roast!”

Here were are – circa 1965 – in our Pittsfield, Massachusetts, kitchen. Those were the dark days, when coffee was not reheatable (no microwaves yet), so you had to get right down to business. Those two cups of coffee in the photo were the first thing I noticed. “Put down the camera, Dad, and enjoy your cup with Mom!” That’s me in the white sweater happily playing with my new Pepper doll. Tammy’s little sis, Pepper came equipped with a swing – which I blissfully tied onto a branch of our Christmas tree. In the upper right corner of this photo? That was our first dishwasher. Yes, it opened from the top!

Although I never wrote down the recipe, it seems I was able to nearly recreate this wintertime comfort food during our recent trip to Connecticut. (Come to think of it, Mom talked me through the recipe over the phone when I was a newlywed.)

Mom’s Pot Roast

Mom cooked her pot roasts slowly on top of the stove; our recent effort was in a slow cooker. It’s best to allow 8-12 hours on low or 4-6 on high, depending on how big a cut of meat you use.

Chuck Roast, 3-5 pounds
Yellow Onions, 3 pounds (unless you don’t like onions)
Carrots, 8 ounce bag of baby carrots
Celery, buy a bag and chop it up (it’s good for you)
Potatoes, 3 pounds (or more, depending how much you like potatoes)
Worcestershire sauce, to taste (Kitchen Bouquet works, too)
Olive oil

I always think of this too late, but if you’re running short on time, it would probably help to cut the roast into chunks at the start of the process. That means, though, you’ll miss that wonderful moment as the meat falls off the bone. So get started early enough to cook the roast in one piece.

If your slow cooker has a setting for “browning” the meat first, use it. Drizzle some olive oil, then drop in the meat. Turn it so that all sides brown nicely. While this is happening, I shake the Worcestershire bottle generously on the roast and start tossing in chunks of onion.

Regarding the vegetables, please note: The onions will disappear.

It’s like they melt. So, if you like the flavor but don’t want to chew pieces of onion, chop them up pretty small. If you want to sink your teeth into cooked onion, then just quarter them and toss in – making sure some sit on top of the roast.

It’s best to slow cook on “Low” if you have 8 to 12 hours. Otherwise, on “High” will get you there in half the time.

You don’t need to add any liquid, as the “melting” onions will provide quite a bit. But if you want more liquid, just add some warm water early on (or some beef broth if you have some on hand).

Do what you want with the carrots, celery, and potatoes, regarding amount and size. Just get them in the slow cooker early on and stir every hour or so.

When you stir and the meat magically falls off the bones, it’s time to eat. (Or, leave your slow cooker on the “Warm” setting until suppertime.)

Dad would want me to add: Be sure to serve with sliced bread for mopping up the “juice” at the end.

It’s sort of a ritual with Dad. If he’d ever skip that step, I think I’d cry.

Here’s the kitchen in our Milford, Connecticut, house. Mom always appreciated having a window over the kitchen sink, and now I understand why. No window in Milford.

This photo was taken in early 1962. Mom collected an entire wardrobe of pretty aprons over the years.

My brother Bill’s wife, Barbara, recently made Mom’s banana bread recipe – with an extra loaf for Dad.

It was only the other day that Dad told me Mom’s banana bread was a recipe handed down from his mom, Lucie Vayo.

Here’s that recipe:

Lucie’s Banana Bread

Mix together:
3-4 ripe bananas – mashed
1+1/2 cup flour
1+1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp cinnamon
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/2 c walnuts (optional)
Bake @350 degrees for 59 minutes

Banana Bread recipe
Serve warm, with soft butter. So good with hot coffee or a lovely cup of tea. (Thanks for sending this photo, Barbara!)

Here’s a photo of Dad’s parents,

Lucie and Harold Vayo, in their Lowell, Massachusetts, home back in the 1970s. Dad remembers his mom cooking many wholesome meals for her five children in the 1930s and ’40s.

We’ll start a “recipes” tag with this post, so as we add other family favorites, each recipe will be easy to find.

Meanwhile, Mom was movin’ on up (rest in peace, Ja’Net DuBois) over the years. Here’s her beautiful kitchen in their Madison, Connecticut, home.

This photo shows about half of the kitchen.

Mom’s final kitchen came with windows over the sink and a lovely skylight above.

Oh, and a microwave to reheat coffee.

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George
George
October 1, 2020 7:07 am

Paula,

Your blog is better than goose grease. Always glad to read it.

George

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