Farmer Gary has been buying and cooking sweet corn like mad these last few weeks of the season. He’s also been complaining about the prices – ranging from four ears for a dollar to a dollar a piece! His shucking and cooking of corn on the cob reminded me of childhood summers. And rhubarb. Mom used to stew it and then top a scoop of vanilla ice cream with it. There was something else she’d make with it, but I…
Every year about this time, the church picnics begin. Every weekend there’s one, and for decades the prime drawing card (and money-maker) was the same: Turtle Soup. Farmer Gary loves Turtle Soup. When I found a family recipe the other day, it got him to telling stories. Not just about the soup. About the man. Johnny Lange. The Turtle Man: Johnny Lange (pronounced “LONG-ee” … Gary would never forgive me if I didn’t add that Johnny had a brother whose…
Why would I dream about taking just one bite of a sandwich? And a Reuben sandwich at that! Farmer Gary is not a fan of rhetorical questions. He just shrugged in response. I so rarely remember my dreams that it was hard to let this one go. Until yesterday, neither Gary nor I had ever tasted a Reuben sandwich. He’s a fan of sauerkraut, but served with pork. Ham hocks and sauerkraut were a treat growing up, he tells me….
Looking back, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to swap vomit stories with James. Our youngest son was feeling lousy and recounting how rarely he’d regurgitated in his 26 years. Ah, but not me. I turned it into an unwinnable contest: “I threw up every day of my three pregnancies. That’s 27 months.” Sorry, James. In less than a week, he would be onstage at the University of Southern Indiana, playing guitar in the Lucas Washington band, opening for…
Mom would call this Meatloaf Weather. Frigidly cold, snowy, with no end in sight. Here’s her recipe, which she sent to me shortly after Gary and I married. I don’t know the story behind the name – could it be her mother’s recipe? Or, more probably, it’s a combination of recipes from friends, relatives, Dad’s feedback, and the back of the oatmeal container. Momma’s Meatloaf 1 lb. (or more) ground beef3/4 to 1 cup quick oatsonion (optional)2 eggs, beaten2 Tablespoons…
When I came across this story in Mom’s archives, I thought of Dad, and wondered if there were any photos of him that might be appropriate to use for illustrations. Then I saw the dedication, and knew it was meant to be. To Hapaffectionately and accuratelyknown in the family as“The Midnight Mouse” And here’s that mouse’s tale: The Pie Sitter There was a man once hired to be a pie sitter. This man was a poor choice because he had…
It’s been sitting on a shelf in our house’s only walk-in closet. Ah, priorities. Family archives are far more important than clothes and shoes. When Gary and I packed up Mom and Dad’s kitchen in 2021, most of the cookbooks went to Becky, Dave’s culinary daughter supreme. But one cookbook I remembered well from childhood. It was in a large ziploc bag, as the cover was no longer attached. That one, I took home. Dad had filled me in that…
What an enchanting name: Marie Antoinette Dansereau. Dad’s great-uncle Franklin Paul Vayo married her on June 4, 1904. Now before anyone gets all silly with a “let them eat wedding cake” meme, let me point out the phrase was first quoted long before the future bride of Louis XVI had even set her dainty foot on French soil. But as long as we’re talking about eating, it feels like poetic justice that Franklin (henceforth referred to as Frank) made a…
Here’s a poem Mom wrote about grandson Andy while he was in college. It made me think of her love for all her grandchildren. Seven in total, there was surely a balancing act to keep track of all the birthdays, accomplishments, favorite ice creams, secrets. Sharing a birthday – April 6 – with Andy, though. Now that’s a balancing act! Balancing Act Now the first fruit fallswhere last July our grandson Andysat under the apple treetelling of college classes old…
Growing up, Thanksgiving was over the top. Turkeys weighed in at 25 or so pounds, and leftovers nearly burst the doors off the fridge. One year, I think it was 1976, Mom and I got the fancy idea to make chestnut stuffing for the turkey. I wish I could remember where we’d heard “chestnut stuffing” mentioned … in a book? A song? Either way, we decided it would be a fun mother-daughter project for Thanksgiving. I know it was not…