Memory check No. 1 - Fried Bologna/Boloney Sandwich

Back when we were still in Akron, we were talking with folks at dinner aabout foods of childhood that we no longer eat. I mentioned that one of the ones that fell off my list of things to eat years ago is the fried bologna, pronounced boloney, sandwich. The primary reason for that is that Del wouldn't eat bologna if you paid him, well, maybe if you paid him a lot! Early in our marriage, he explined that he had taken a bologna sandwich to school every day for twelve years, and that's enough punishment for any one person, no matter how cheap it was and how poor we were. My comment that his lunch sandwiches were not fried, and back then when no was concerned that children's lunches be kept cold and schools were not air conditioned, his bologna was room temperature by lunchtime, whatever temperature the room was, did not sway him. (Digressing, as I am apt to do, why is it we didn't all die from food poisoning?) I commented to those at the table that Del had taken me to a little hole in the wall place where he and friend Mark ate occasionally so Mark could have a bologna sandwich. I was surprised when the sandwich came on toasted Texas Toast, which should be redundant, but apparently isn't. Why isn't Texas Toast in its untoasted state called Texas bread or some such thing, but I digress, yet again. The meat itself was cut about a half inch and while warm through, was barely browned. It did come with mustard and lettuce as I had requested. People began to talk about the bologna sandwiches of their memories, and I was surprised to find that there were almost as many ways to skin that particular cat as there were people at the table. Everyone except me agreed with friend Mark that the bologna should be sliced thick, and one couple even agreed with his habit of making it with mayonnaise. The others made theirs with yellow mustard. No one remembered lettuce. One person asked why only lettuce, no tomato. Just because, is the only answer I could come up with. I was the only one who remembered making them in the Robinson way. Robinson Fried Bologna Sandwich 2 slices squishy white bread yellow mustard 2 thin slices bologna iceberg lettuce Place two slices of bologna/boloney in a skillet and cook until brown on each side. It doesn't hurt to let it get a little crunchy if you are so inclined. If you want the slices to lie flat, make cuts around the edges a little more than 1/4 inch or so in toward the center. Otherwise, just hold it down with your spatula so it won't cup and will brown pretty evenly.. Place on UNTOASTED squishy white bread that has been liberally spread with plain yellow mustard. None of that fancy stuff. Add a couple of pieces of iceberg lettuce. Again, none of that fancy stuff. The beverage of choice with a bologna sandwich, if I recall correctly, was what little girl Rosa used to call "coldfreshmilk." For once, my running together of words is not a typing error, she always said it as though it were one word. I decided after that dinner that I would try some of the foods I enjoyed as a child but no longer eat, to see if I'm missing anything. One afternoon when Del was not going to be home for dinner, I stopped after school to buy two slices of bologna and some iceberg lettuce. Once home, I set about to almost recreate the sandwich of my childhood. Almost, because I decided to use the whole wheat bread we already had instead of squishy white bread. Maybe that influenced the results, or maybe my tastes have changed, because as I ate my bologna sandwich I could not decide why it tasted so great in my memory and just okay that night. Results of first memory check: Memory: 1 Reality 0 Maybe the next food down memory lane will be potted meat. No one else mentioned that at the dinner, and I hesitated to, being a Southern country girl who will, to quote the young David, "eat things the dog won't eat." Did you ever eat potted meat?

Boiled Peanuts. Acute Colic and Family Notions

I was brought up on a farm in Southside Virginia where peanuts were an important crop. When I was a child, the peanuts, which are not a nut and which grow under ground, were harvested and then piled up around a tall, sturdy stick to dry in the sun. A city friend of mine, meaning she was from 5,000 person Emporia, thought the peanut shocks were peanut trees. I've tried to find out why the stacks were called "shocks", but have come up empty. This may mean I haven't looked hard enough or that I remember the word incorrectly. Much later on, the family farmers began to use large dryers instead, and I remember how loud the fans sounded. The peanuts were sold, of course, but some were always kept back so that the families had some to cook from time to time.

Mother did what she called "parching" the peanuts. This usually meant roasting them in their shells, but occasionally we would shell them first. I remember that they needed to be stirred quite frequently and checked for doneness. This was particularly true when they had been shelled because they cooked much more quickly, and a scorched peanut tastes nasty and smells p the house. My bedroom opened right into the kitchen, so cooking smells were important to me.

Some people rubbed off the skins and cooked the peanuts in oil, but if I remember correctly, Mother rarely did that. She did make peanut brittle at Christmas time. SIL Pat and Del loved to get a box of it. Bubba and I were less trouble. He liked chocolate covered cherries, and I liked "silver tops" (Hershey's kisses).

Having grown up in Georgia, Del's folks loved boiled peanuts, but had a difficult time getting Virginia farmers to sell them freshly harvested "green" peanuts. At that time, we Virginians were of the opinion that green peanuts would make you sick. My uncle Big Bubba believed they would give you the Acute colic and you would surely die. Acute was pronounced with a long /A/, the emphasis was on the first syllable, and it was always proceeded by the word "the". Somehow that sounded much more serious to us kids than if it had been pronounced as it was intended to be. Big Bubba also thought that eating watermelon and drinking co-cola would result in the acute colic and sure death. Big Bubba was not always right, but he was certainly confident in his opinions. He was the oldest of the Robinson siblings, after all.

The first time Del came to the farm during peanut harvest, he asked if he could buy some of the freshly harvested peanuts. This presented a problem. On the one hand, they didn't want to offend a potential prospect. The Robinson women of the previous generation were both old maids, after all. On the other hand, they didn't want to kill him off, and it was well known that green peanuts would, well, you know... What to do? What to do? He assured Mother and Daddy and my uncle garland that his family had eaten boiled green peanuts forever without a bit of trouble, so in the end, he was given a mess of peanuts to take to his parents, but not before yet another warning that they would get the Acute colic and surely die.
The first time I ate Mrs. Williams' boiled peanuts, I was surprised at how good they tasted - very much like black eyed peas. What's not to like? The Williams would assure you that my assessment is just wrong, of course. I learned to make them according to her method, so, once again, it's more a process than a recipe.

Now a days I have seen boiled peanuts for sale in service stations in Virginia, so I guess that as we began to travel more, brave Virginians decided that if they didn't kill everybody else, they wouldn't kill us either.

A man in Huntsville, Alabama used to sell them by the "dip" from an iron pot by the side of the road, and Del swears they were great, but I could not make myself eat anything that came out of that nasty looking slimy water. One of Del's great pleasures was to take northern visiters to the University out to a really nice lunch and then drive them by for a dip of boiled peanuts. I don't know that he ever converted anyone, but he never failed to amuse himself.

Boiled peanuts:

2 lb. GREEN peanuts - dried or roasted will not do, so don't even try

1 3/4 - 2 cups salt

water to cover peanuts by 2 at least 2 inches.

Dissolve 1 3/4 cups salt in a couple of gallons of water. Add peanuts and add more water as needed to have them covered by at least 2 inches. Mrs. Williams always put a heat safe plate on top to keep the peanuts from floating to top of water. Cover pot turn heat to high until the water boils. Reduce the heat so the water simmers. Stir every 20 minutes or so and be sure to add more water to keep level 2 inches above the peanuts. Be sure to bring water back to boil each time you add water and then reduce to simmer.

After about 4 hours, check one of the peanuts to see if it is beginning to taste salty. If not, add the remaining 1/4 cup salt. Cook for 2 more hours and check for desired texture. Ms. Williams cooked them until they were quite tender, so it could take as much as 7-8 hours. She would taste for salt, and if they weren't salty enough, she would leave them in the liquid in the refrigerator over night. Then she would drain them and store them tightly covered in the refrigerator for 3-4 days. She often put some in zip lock bags and froze them for later. I'm guessing she always cooked a large batch because it took so long to cook them.

You can eat the peanuts hot or cold, and they are kind of messy. The proper way of eating seems to be to open the peanut, slurp up the nuts and the liquid in the shell, chew and swallow.

Note: Treat the green peanuts as you would other fresh vegetables. Refrigerate as soon as you get home and refrigerate cooked peanuts for 3-4 days, or freeze. I suppose you could freeze raw green peanuts in the shell, but I don't really know.

Maybe I should read my own blog - Chicken Muddle Revisited

It seems that I did post the recipe for chicken muddle on this blog in September and promptly forgot. It is well worth making and since you end up with such a large quantity you can tuck it away in the freezer and enjoy the results of your work for a good while. I made it in my huge Oster Roaster this time and it was much less work. I just cranked it up as high as it would go and cooked it without the top so the liquid would evaporate. Got to be able to eat it with a fork, as Greensville Countians all know.

As we were filling the kitchen sinks with ice to cool the muddle, I remembered that when Mother and Daddy made the big iron pot of muddle, they used to buy ice to fill the thoroughly scrubbed bath tub and stick the little containers of muddle down in it so they would cool quickly and safely before putting into the big chest freezer.

That's pretty much all I know about chicken muddle, and I will try to keep better track of what I already posted, from now on.

Chicken Pie

We ate a lot of what we called chicken pie when I was growing up, and I loved it, but it was not like the chicken pie I’ve eaten at other people's houses or in restaurants. Those usually have onions, peas, carrots or other vegetables in a sauce that is rather thick. At our house there were two ways of making chicken pie, baked or on the eye of the stove in a stew pot. I later learned that the stove top version would more often be called chicken and dumplings – in this case strip or rolled dumplings. This was my very favorite. Del isn't that crazy about any of it, but will eat either kind, and David would probably still just as soon have one of the cheap frozen kind he always preferred as a child.

Baked Chicken pie

Mother kept a bag of bony pieces of chicken such as backs in the freezer and added to it until she had enough to do something with. Then she would cut up a chicken and stew them together. Stewing meant simmering the chicken in water with salt and pepper until done. Mother would put resulting broth in a Pyrex dish and add the backs wings and short legs (thighs, or short jumpers as Mr. Williams called them). Then she would cover the dish with her homemade pie crust and bake until the crust was golden brown and the broth was bubbly. She would reserve the rest of the broth and chicken for chicken salad or some other dish.

Chicken Pie – stove top version

Recipe:

Stew a chicken in sufficient water to make a goodly amount of broth. Remove skin and bones and return to broth. Taste broth. If it tastes bland, add a bouillon cube or some chicken stock base and pepper.

Pastry

2 cups all purpose flour
½ t. salt
2 T Crisco
½ cup hot water

Mix flour and salt. Cut in the shortening with two knives until it resembles coarse meal. Stir in the hot water with a fork. Form into a ball and roll until 1/16” thick. Cut into strips approximately 1” by 3” and drop into simmering broth. Cook for 20 minutes, but do not allow to boil or they will break up.

Note: I prefer to keep the chicken out of the broth until after I cook and remove dumplings and most of broth into a heated serving dish. Then I quickly reheat the chicken in remaining broth and add to the dish.

Note: In a pinch, you can substitute strips from thinly rolled canned biscuits.

Butter - Easy Recipe for Children of All Ages

The computer is fixed, the wedding festivities for niece Sarah are over and both sets of friends who stayed with us here at Massanutten have left , so I thought It was time to get back to business. We have had almost two wonderful weeks with friends and family in Williamsburg, Suffolk, Newport News and here in the mountains of Virginia.
On to butter… As I have said before, we lived in the country on a family farm. We lived in the home place, and Ruby, a teacher, and sometimes Eunie, lived there too. Garland, Daddy’s younger brother, lived across and down the road on one side. He had seven children, Garland, Jr. who went away to school because there was no education in Emporia at that time for a child who was deaf, Jimmy, Marsha, Randy, Mike, Brenda and Eric. Big Bubba and Stella lived across and down the road in the other direction. Big Bubba was the oldest. We sort of went from one house to the other, depending on what was going on. Big Bubba worked shift work at Johns Manville, as my daddy did, and Jimmy, Marsha and I used to take turns staying with Stella on midnight to 7 shift because she did not like to stay alone.
We had a cow until after Bubba went off to college. He was chief milker, and I felt it was my responsibility to keep him company while he did it. Keeping him company probably consisted of asking one question after another, and may have occasionally plucked his last good nerve, as sister in law Daryl Lyn says, because he sometimes aimed at me instead of the bucket. He had really good control. I remember the farm cats and kittens used to show up at milking time and wait with open mouths for him to squirt them.
We churned our own butter in crockery churns with wooden dashers. You had to let the cream come to the top of the milk, spoon it off and put it into the churn. Then you pulled the dasher up and pushed it down until the butter formed, leaving butter milk in the bottom of the churn. Then you had to scoop the very soft butter out of the churn and into a crockery bowl so the remaining butter milk could be worked out with a wooden paddle. Once that was done, the butter could be shaped into a log or a ball or pushed firmly into a butter mold. Ours was wooden and consisted of a form with a plunger that had decorations on the surface. When the plunger was depressed to push out the butter, it left a pretty decoration. I was given a butter pat sized mold and loved to make individual servings of butter, but most of the time, we just used the big one.

The butter milk was saved for making biscuits or for drinking by those who were so inclined. Crumbling up cold biscuits in the milk and eating them with a spoon was considered a special treat by some, but not by me.
When we churned butter at Big Bubba and Stella’s, we sat on the front porch and sang “Come butter, come” as we worked. I think those were the only words to the so called song.

I also remember that when we needed rain so badly that the wells were in danger of running dry, Stella used to gather the cousins on the front porch, and we would sing “There Shall Be Showers of Blessing.” over and over and over again. But I digress…

When several of the cousins were around, we were sometimes given a Mason jar of cream which we shook until it turned to butter. I remember that we had races to see who could shake the fastest and get butter first.

Making butter was a favorite speech activity at Medina County Board of MRDD. We prepared picture communication boards so that non verbal students could request a turn or a taste of the butter and attached a food processor to a device so that children with limited hand mobility could use a switch to activate the processor.

Recipe

1 cup whipping cream
Pinch salt (optional)

Pour cold cream in bowl of food processor. Process until it is way past the whipped cream stage. A small amount of liquid will separate from the creamy butter. Don’t expect it to be yellow like the butter you get at the store. It will be quite soft, but will firm up in the refrigerator.
The children loved it on saltines or bread. Because of my own opinions of the matter, I always put the butter on the bottom or unsalted side of the cracker so the salt touched the tongue. Don’t laugh. I know you have some food rules.

Mrs. Williams' Shrimp Dip

Mrs. Williams loved to make what we now call appetizers at Christmas time. She probably didn't call them that, but they were always stored away in her Frigidaire side by side refrigerator with pies and cookies and fruit cake in tin boxes ready for company. I swear that fridge stretched. I have never been able to get as much in a refrigerator as she did.

The thing I liked best, I think, is her shrimp dip. She served it with crackers, but a spoon would have been fine with me, and she really could have left out the shrimp. While I like shrimp, I LOVE cocktail sauce.

Recipe:

6 oz. cream cheese - lower fat is fine
1 pt. sour cream - lower fat is fine
1 1/2 bottles Cross-Blackwell's cocktail sauce
3-5 drops hot pepper sauce
1 lb.cooked tiny shrimp

Mix together the cream cheese, sour cream, cocktail sauce and red pepper sauce. It is okay if there a few small lumps of cream cheese. Stir in shrimp. Refrigerate until time to serve. Serve with your favorite crackers.

Note: Try to use only Cross-Blackwell cocktail sauce. It really is better. I usually buy the 1 lb. package of precooked and shelled tiny little shrimp, but if you can only find larger shrimp, cut them into 2 or 3 pieces.

Lemon Chess Pie/ Computer on the Blink

When we moved to Macomb, Illinois, we found a sweet cherry tree full of cherries in our back yard. A neighbor asked David, aged 10, if he liked cherry pie. He said that he really didn't know because he had only ever had pecan or lemon chess. That wasn't qauite true, I don't think, but he wasn't off by much. Berries and other fruits were usually made into cobblers.

This pie is just about as rich as a pie can get, rivaling pecan pie, in my opinion. It is pretty much a special occasion pie and served in thin slices. Mother made it frequently for holidays, but I don't think Mrs. Williams did.

One year when we were living in Huntsville, Uncle Hubert, his daughter and several grandchildren came up to visit while Mr. Williams was there. We had people all over the place. It was lots of fun, but a bit confusing for the cook. I put two lemon chess pies into the oven and not until 15 minutes later noticed a bowl with sugar in it sitting on the counter. Not knowing what else to do, I took the pies out of the oven, scooped all the pie part out into the bowl of sugar, stirred vigorously, poured it back into the crusts and put them back into the oven. They were the strangest looking lemon chess pies I ever saw, but they tasted okay.

Lemon chess pies as made by members of our family are quite tart. We really are happiest when they make your lips pucker, but after serving them uncomfortably tart to Tracy's family, I have toned things down a bit.

When we were growing up, Southern Baptist receptions, showers and other celebrations in Jarratt usually had lemon crust tartlets and pecan tassies with cheese straws or wafers and tiny salty country ham biscuits to "take the sweet taste out of your mouth." I can't prove that this expression was invented by our family, but the Robinsons certainly took it to heart. A small plate of country ham slivers was passed around after every holiday meal when ham was served. Bubba and I agreed that even when you were so full you couldn't eat another bite, you could still find room for a bite of ham to "take the sweet taste out of your mouth."

Sister in law Dianne and I are going to make lemon chess tartlets for niece Sarah's wedding in Virginia a week from Saturday, and since I haven't made them in a long time,I decided to make a practice batch for Del and the three men who are building the humongous closet in our basement. They passed the wedding worthy test, so here is the recipe.

As you will notice when you read the recipe, this pie is quite rich, so cut it into thin slices, and be sure to refrigerate. All those eggs could could cause problems if you don't.

Recipe:
2 c. sugar
2 T. finely grated lemon zest
1 T. flour
1 T. white plain stone ground corn meal (or additional T flour)
4 beaten eggs
1/4 cup melted and cooled butter
1/2 c. fresh lemon juice, or a little more for puckery lips
1/4 c milk

Whisk all ingredients until thoroughly combined. Pour into 9" pastry shell. Bake 50-60 minutes in preheated 350 degree oven. Tooth pick will come out clean.

Tartlets:

One recipe of filling will make 69 tarts when baked in shells approximately 1 and 3/4" across and 1" deep. I use a scoop that holds almost 1 T. filling. Two pie crust sheets from the refrigerator case (one box) will make 48 shells when cut with a 2 and 1/4" cutter.

Note: If buying pans, I suggest you try to get this size for optimum lemon filling/crust ratio. I also recommend getting the 48 cup pans. It makes it so much easier when making a big batch of tartlets.

My computer has gotten indigestion or something. Maybe it's being exposed to all this food talk. I'll be sharing with Del for a bit, so things will be somewhat sporatic. We'll also be in Virginis for a couple of weeks, so I may not have internet access.

Fried/Baked Dried Apple Pies/Turnovers

A favorite dessert in Virginia and in other southern states is the fried pie. Both Mother and Mrs. Williams made them, but they did it a little differently.
When I was little, Mother dried her own apples. I remember she peeled them and spread them on a white sheet to dry in the hot sun. I think she put them on the roof of the pump house so the animals could not get to them and brought them onto the screen porch at night. They turned quite dark and had the stronger flavor of the dried apples sold in bulk at health food markets. The packaged ones I buy in regular grocery stores are treated to keep them light in color, and I think they taste very much like fresh apples when cooked.
Mother also made her own pastry for her turnovers, as she called them. I don’t have that recipe, but I think I remember that she said she didn’t make them quite as short so they would hold up better to frying. I don’t know if the term “quite as short” is commonly used, but she meant it to say she didn’t use as much shortening. Del says Mrs. Williams made her pastry from scratch in the early years, but by the time I came into the family, she used canned biscuits. Either works, but I’m partial to pastry. My homemade pie dough in the rectangular box in the refrigerator case works just fine. It’s a little more trouble to use pastry, of course, because you have to reroll the scraps of dough after the first cutting.
Del says that his mother occasionally made dried peach fried pies, but I only remember eating apple ones at home or at the Williams’ house. A bakery here in Carrollton makes fried pies that have regular juicy pie filling of various kinds, but they just aren’t as good.
Recipe:
1 roll of 10 canned biscuits
1 package dried apples
2 cups water
Put apples and water into small pot and simmer, covered, until the water evaporates and the apples are tender. Add a little extra water if needed before apples are tender, but be sure you let it evaporate. Mash some of the apples with potato masher, but leave them lumpy. TASTE FOR SWEETNESS. I usually don’t add any, but you might want to. Let cool.
Roll out individual biscuits until thin. Place about 1/8 c. apple mixture on each biscuit, form into a half circle and press edges together so the filling will not leak out. Then crimp edges with a fork.
Heat ½ inch oil in iron or other frying pan and fry the pies until golden. One package of apples makes just enough for 10 turnovers. Eat while still warm.
OR
Cut circles from your own pie dough or refrigerated crusts. You can determine the size of the turnover by the size of the cutter you choose, but adjust the amount of filling accordingly. If you over fill, they will ooze while frying. Mini pies are pretty, I think. Fry until golden. Eat while still warm.
OR
Use either biscuits or pie dough, but bake them instead of frying. Spread ½ tsp. oil on a cast iron griddle or pan and place it in the oven at 400 degrees until hot. Place turnovers onto the hot pan and brush the top with a little oil. Bake until golden brown. These don’t take me back to my childhood, but they are less trouble and have less fat. Del thinks that since I don’t use sugar and they don’t have the taste of fat, they might benefit from a sprinkle of powdered sugar when taken from the oven, but I think they are just fine as they are

Tuna Casserole - Easy Enough for Children of All Ages

I don't know if the part of the brain that understands math also is in charge of the sense of direction, but I am sadly lacking in both areas, so
when I was in high school, I took just enough math to be accepted into Westhampton and immediately stopped taking it so my grade point average would be high enough for me to be accepted. Two years of Algebra and one year of Plane Geometry. Plane Geometry made sense to me for reasons I don’t understand, but only the extra tutoring Mr. Cashwell gave struggling students on Tuesday afternoons got me through Algebra 2. Because I did well in most of my other classes, my plan worked.

When I quit taking math, I had time in my schedule to take something else, so I took Home Ec from Mrs. Polly Slate. Three recipes from that class are still in my recipe box – tuna casserole, pork chop casserole and kolachky. The tuna casserole definitely belongs in the easy enough for children to make category, but I’ll post the others down the road.

Tuna casseroles of various kinds were standard fare for the inexperienced and short of cash cook back in our early years, but because of the mercury and other bad stuff in the water, we are now advised to limit use of it and some other big fish, so you might want to Google for health recommendations.

I was amused when looking at this recipe to see that it called for a nickel bag of potato chips. That was back in the days when a nickel was still a nickel and occasionally had a buffalo on it.

Recipe

1 large can water packed light tuna
1 can cream of mushroom soup
¼ cup sour cream
Small can baby peas, drained (or frozen baby peas, thawed)
Pepper
Single serving regular potato chips

Mix everything except chips and pour into sprayed casserole dish. Open the bag of chips enough so it won’t pop and squeeze it to make crumbs. Sprinkle chips evenly over casserole. Bake at 350 degrees until bubbly and brown around the edges, about 20 minutes. The low fat versions of everything work just fine. You could substitute buttery cracker crumbs for the chips, but I think the potato chips are better.

Note

If you like, you could add ¼ cup milk and a cup of leftover rice or noodles and substitute leftover corn for peas.

Shrimp and Grits

As I understand it shrimp and grits started out in the Charleston area as a somewhat humble dish eaten by fishermen for breakfast, but migrated to elegant tables and is now served in restaurants all over the place. Del and I have tried shrimp and grits just about every time we have seen them on a menu and each time, they have been at least a little different. The other night we tried them in Carrollton and they were served on smoked Gouda grits. The recipe I use is a combination of the elements we enjoyed most at the various restaurants and tends to change a little depending on where we ate them last.

Recipe:

Note: Before starting this recipe refer to the Oct. 5, 2011 post with suggestions on buying and preparing shrimp and the recipe for shrimp stock.

2 lb. raw shrimp bought in the shells ( I like easy peel)
2tbs. olive oil
2 large cloves garlic, minced
3-4 tbs. minced onion
4 slices bacon
1 recipe shrimp stock (Oct. 5 post Be sure to reduce until really syrupy)
¼ c. nonfat half and half
¼ c. or more grated parmesan cheese
Black pepper to taste
2 or more shots hot sauce
Parsley for garnish


Heat olive oil in large saucepan and add chopped bacon. When bacon is nearly crisp, add shrimp, garlic and onion and cook 2-3 minutes until shrimp are just beginning to turn pink . Remove shrimp from pan.

Add:
shrimp stock
nonfat half and half
grated parmesan
black pepper to taste
hot sauce

Simmer a couple of minutes until bubbly. Adding back the shrimp at the last minute.

Notes:
If you don't have enough sauce, add a little more half and half or a bit of stock until it seems to be enough and tastes right.

If the sauce tastes bland, you might add a little clam base.

If the stock is too thin, add a little cornstarch slurry.

If it isn't garlicky enough, sprinkle in some garlic powder

If the shrimp are large, or you want it to look like more, cut them in half lengthwise.

After eating at SNOB in Charleston, I sometimes add ¼ cup sliced okra and ¼ cup corn for the last 2-3 minutes and add ¼ cup halved cherry tomatoes on top of the finished dish.

Sometimes I serve the sauce over cheese grits. Then I usually eliminate the cheese from the sauce.

If I don’t have shrimp shells, I use clam juice, clam base or boxed seafood stock as the base for the shrimp stock recipe in the Oct. 5 post. Just be sure to reduce it well and taste to be sure it has sufficient seafood flavor. If not you might add a little clam base.

This makes enough for at least 8 servings of grits. I usually use the 5
minute kind, but the old fashioned coarse ground slow cooking ones have a
great texture if you can find them and have the patience. I add about 1/4cup more water than it calls for the 8 servings so the grits won't be
too stiff.

The dish is really pretty if you pour the grits out on a platter that has a rim and then pour the grits over it. I've also just
used individual bowls and served from the pots on the stove.

Too Easy Grilled Salmon

I recently saw an advertisement for the children’s clothing line called Garanimals. It's a clothing line designed to help young children mix and match. They came out when David was past that age, but they did make an impression on him. One day when he was about 10, we saw the commercial, and he commented that they should make some for older men called Grampimals. Mr. Williams spent 33 ½ years wearing an Army uniform to work every day and never really developed the ability to put an outfit together. Or maybe he missed out on the clothes matching gene, who knows. I do know that before Mrs. Williams even got sick she made me promise that if she went first, I would lay out Mr. Williams’ clothes for her funeral.

When we lived in Huntsville, Alabama, he generally came a couple of times a year to stay with us for a couple of weeks and then went on down to visit his brother In Atmore. And before you ask, no, Uncle Hubert was not behind bars in Atmore, he lived on a farm.

While he was with us, Mr. Williams always had some jobs he wanted to do for us, putting up shelves and doing little repairs. There are more talented handipeople, but none more enthusiastic than he was.

Each project required repeated trips to Home Depot, sometimes more than once a day, and Mr. Williams was always so surprised and pleased that the man in the lumber department remembered him from visit to visit. He always remarked that he could not figure out how that nice young man could remember him. You tell me. Would you be likely to remember a little old guy who showed up pretty nearly daily a couple of times a year in fire engine red coveralls and canvas slip on shoes? I remember that he put those coveralls on hot from the dryer more than once each visit. Not to mention he never met a stranger and loved to talk with people and always not so much walked as trotted. He also had a truly good heart.

The connection between this fond memory of Pops, as Del usually called him, and this salmon recipe is that it was given to us by our neighbor in Huntsville. He was a cardiologist and preferred to prepare salmon steaks instead of beef. We still use this method all these years later.

Recipe:

Salmon steak or filet
For each piece of fish:
1 tsp. low fat mayonnaise
Sprinkle of Cavender’s Greek Seasoning

Spread fish with ½ tsp. mayonnaise and sprinkle with seasoning. Place on hot grill, either outside or inside on a grill pan, seasoned side down. Spread the remaining mayonnaise on other side and sprinkle with seasoning. Grill to your preferred doneness, remembering that it will get tough if overcooked. 6-10 minutes per inch is a good estimate.
Note: If you prefer not to use mayonnaise, I have found that brushing lightly with oil works just fine.

Pimiento Cheese

My father in law, Eugene Williams, loved pimiento cheese, but Mrs. Williams never made it. She frequently bought the already made kind at the commissary, but that was made with wimpy cheese and could not put a patch on Mother’s homemade. Mother used what Daddy called rat trap cheese. It was cut off a big wheel at Bradley’s store and was as sharp as any cheese I have had since.

The first year(s) Del and I were married the budget was tight, so when Mr. Williams’ birthday came around, I made a big batch of pimiento cheese, put a bow on the container and called it a present. He was so taken with it that he had me show him how to make it and made it every week of his life from then until he became too feeble. It is called Daddy’s pimiento cheese out in Colorado because he used to make it out there when he went to visit daughter Dianne. So far as I remember it was just about the only thing he cooked.
Del likes toasted pimiento cheese sandwiches. I prefer to spread it on Premium saltine crackers, but the cheese has to be on the unsalted side so the salty side touches my tongue when I eat it. That’s just one of my little food peculiarities, but I’m sure you’ll be won over if you try it. It’s also good stuffed into celery sticks

Recipe:

10 oz. cheddar, extra sharp is my choice, but use your favorite strength
4 oz. jar of diced or chopped pimientos
6 T mayonnaise, light’s fine
½ tsp. yellow mustard

Grate the cheese by hand or in food processor. You can use the kind that comes shredded, but it doesn’t mush together with the other ingredients as well. Drain the pimientos and add them, the mayonnaise and the mustard to the cheese. Mix well and refrigerate. It keeps several days

My Take on Buying Shrimp

There are certainly people who know a lot more about shrimp than I do, but over the years of living where shrimp don't I've tried to figure out ways to make the frozen taste as much like fresh as possible.

Buying shrimp:

Because we don’t live at the ocean, I usually buy frozen easy peel raw shrimp, thaw them according to package instructions and peel them, saving the shells. It may be foolish, but I just don’t like to buy the previously frozen ones in the fish case, and it’s not as easy to find the fresh ones except in a specialty market.

After peeling, sprinkle the shrimp heavily with kosher or other salt and let sit for about 10 minutes so they will taste more like fresh. Rinse the shrimp and proceed with recipe.

Making shrimp stock:

2 T. oil
Shells from 1 pound of shrimp
½ T. seafood seasoning
6 or more black peppercorns
2 garlic cloves, minced
¼ cup onion, chopped
½ cup white wine
1 quart water.

Heat oil in sauce pan. Add shells, seafood seasoning, garlic and onion. Cook, stirring until the shells turn pink. It happens quickly so don't walk away. Add wine and allow to boil gently until the sauce reduces and becomes syrupy. Add the water and simmer for 30 minutes or so.

Strain the stock and use or freeze for another meal.

Mrs. Williams' Strawberry Fig Preserves

Friend Mark’s comment about Cornell Chicken Barbecue reminded me of the Virginia Cooperative Extension Service, administered through the land grant colleges. In Greensville County we had a County Agent, and a Home Demonstration Agent, now called Extension Agents. According to the website, they are responsible for outreach programs regarding "agriculture, natural resources, family and consumer sciences, 4H clubs and community viability."

Mother belonged to the Home Demonstration Club. The women met monthly to socialize and learn from the educational programs. Before I started school, I went with her. I remember that we packed lunch, and I carried a little bag with books or my doll, often naked. despite Mother's best efforts. The doll, not me. We always stopped on the way to pick up Mrs. Janski. She was an older lady who was a talented artist. She often brought a fig preserves and butter sandwich with the crusts cut off for her lunch, and when she did, she always made one for me. I don’t remember if I really liked the jam or if I liked the fact that she cut the crusts off. Mother only did that on very special occasions, claiming that the crusts made you pretty. I understand that some children were told the crusts would make their hair curly. I’m pretty sure the former is not true, and my hair is straight as a stick, so there you are.

I don’t have Mrs. Janski’s fig preserves recipe, but I do have Mrs. Williams’ strawberry fig recipe. They had a huge fig tree outside their side porch, and she did love figs. I prefer mine in Newtons, to tell the truth, but her jam was really popular.

Recipe:
3 cups mashed figs
2 pkg. (3 oz.) strawberry gelatin
3 cups sugar
Mix together in large saucepan. Boil 3-4 minutes. Pour into hot, sterilized jelly jars and seal.
Note: This is the recipe as I was given it back in the ‘70s, but food safety rules for canning may be different by now. If you are not an experienced canner, it might be a good idea to consult a recent canning book.

Chicken Barbecue Sauce

When we lived in Lexington, Virginia back in the ‘70s, the fire departments in the little Rockbridge County towns, made money by having Fire Festivals during the summer. There were parades with fire trucks, ambulances, and other emergency vehicles,drums, an old guy drum major who had more fun than anyone and majorettes from toddler age on up. I recall being worried about who was looking after business because at least one truck showed up from each little town. There were also a few rides and wonderful barbecued chicken dinners, except for one community which served pot roast. I thought that seemed strange for a hot summer evening, but it was tasty. We went almost every weekend with friends and their children. To be honest, I think the parents had as much fun as the little ones.

Each dinner consisted of half or quarter of a chicken with sides and a drink, and there were wonderful desserts. I had never seen such huge grills for the chargrilled chicken. It took several men to tend them and you could smell the chicken before you got out of your car. We were told that many of the communities used some version of barbecue sauce said to have originated at VPI to baste the chicken because it doesn't have tomatoes in it and is less apt to burn before the chicken is done. A neighbor told me how to make her version of the sauce.

VPI,for non Virginians and young Virginians, stands for Virginia Polytechnic Institute, located in Blacksburg and now commonly called Va Tech. Several Robinsons went there over the years.

Recipe:
½ cup oil
1 c. cider vinegar
1/2c. Water
2T salt
½ t. black pepper (I use 1/2 black and 1/2 red)
1t. poultry seasoning (I use 1/2 t.)

Mix together and refrigerate for several hours so flavors will meld. Put into food safe spray bottle and spray chicken frequently while cooking. Leftover sauce will keep in fridge for several days.

Note: I usually cut the recipe in half. I have also made it without poultry seasoning when I didn't have any.

Apple Breakfast Cake

I was given this mix with a spoon recipe when we lived in Lexington, Virginia. We lived there from the time David was just about 4 until 7, and he loved the cake so much that he requested it for his birthday a couple of years. I’m sorry I don’t remember where the recipe came from.

Lexington is where David and another little boy had their first run in with school authorities. Both families had moved to Lexington after the school year started, and we were told the older preschool class was full. They put the boys in with the younger kids where there were spaces. About 3 weeks into the year, both families were asked to come in for conferences. The teacher asked if David seemed unhappy . He seemed quite happy to us, but it seems that during playtime, he and his buddy would begin to talk about how they wanted to go home and wanted their mamas. Whereupon, the little kids would start to cry and go to the teacher for comfort while the little juvenile delinquents had no competition for the good toys. The teacher said they didn’t do anything she could punish them for, but they were causing trouble. We had stern talks with our boys every day before school, but it is amazing how fast spots opened up for them in the age appropriate class. Once there, the peers kept them straight.

Recipe

Mix together with wooden spoon:

2 eggs
2 cups sugar
1 ¼ cup oil
3 large apples, peeled and chopped
3 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 heaping T. cinnamon
1 T. pure vanilla extract

Spread batter into 9” x 13 “ pan. Add crumb topping. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 – 40 minutes. A knife will come out clean.

It is really good slightly warm, but continues to be moist the next day.

Crumb topping

Mix together in batter bowl to save on dishes:

¼ cup flour
¼ cup brown sugar
2 T cinnamon

Note: I have found that the cake works just fine if you use only 1 cup oil. I’ve also tried taking out a ¼ cup of sugar while reducing the oil to ¾ cup, but it was sort of dry.

If you prefer, you can cut down a bit on the cinnamon, but we like it this way.

Pecan Tassies

Pecan tassies are miniature pecan pies baked in muffin tins that are in the neighborhood of an inch across, give or take. They were pretty much guaranteed to be served at weddings, showers, teas and other dress up functions in Jarratt, and in Emporia, I think, when I was growing up.

This would probably be as good a time as any to explain the geography of our growing up. We lived on the farm five miles from Emporia, a city of 5,000 and five miles from Jarratt, a smaller town. (The word city is important, because it was a big deal when that status was achieved. I’m not sure why.} We went to school in Emporia, and to church in Jarratt, and Daddy worked in Jarratt at Johns Manville. When mother worked while Bubba was in college and again after I was in high school, she worked in Emporia, and I started working there when I was fifteen, first in Rose’s dime store and later in Gene’s and whatever it turned into. I mentioned in an earlier post that we got married on Sunday so the ladies I had worked with could come to the wedding.

This bi-community living made for some confusion the first year we had Daylight Saving Time. Virginia allowed local option, and Emporia did and Jarratt didn’t. The clock was set for Emporia time and it was a mess. After Daddy got to work and we to church at the wrong time a couple of times, we went to the two clock system.

When I was in first grade, I was terribly worried that the people in Emporia would think I didn’t go to church and the people in Jarratt would think I didn’t go to school. If I recall correctly, I was much more worried about the church part than the school part. To be expected of a properly brought up Southern Baptist child, I expect.

Apparently that sort of worrying runs in the family. We’re keeping Moonpie this weekend while Rosa and parents go to Disney to the science class they have there. When we were making plans on the phone last night, David said they had decided not to surprise her because they were afraid she would think there was a family emergency if they took her out of school early without warning. I heard a voice in the background say “I tend to over think things.” I wish I could tell her she would get over it with age, but her Mema hasn’t yet, and I have a Medicare card. Mother used to say that if I didn't have something to worry about, I'd worry about that.

Back to the pecan tassies. They require a special pan, one for mini muffins about an inch across. When we were first married, I bought one pan and used it and washed it and used it and washed it until I had baked enough to serve. Then every Christmas, I bought another pan until I had enough to feed a small army without stopping to wash in between. It certainly made things easier and quicker, but it can be done with just one pan.


Recipe

Pastry

3 oz. block cream cheese (lower fat works, but not fat free)
½ cup margarine or butter
1 cup flour

Mix together with mixer or by hand. Form into a log, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour. Divide into 24 balls. Spray pans with vegetable spray. Press balls into and up the sides of tiny muffin tins, about an inch across.

Filling

2 eggs
1 cup light brown sugar
2 T melted butter or margarine
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract
Pinch salt
1 cup pecans

Beat eggs slightly, add all other ingredients and mix well. Put into uncooked shells, leaving a small rim of crust showing.
Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes until crusts are brown and filling is set but not hard. Use blade of knife to help remove tassies while they are still warm. If left to cool completely, they may stick.
These freeze well.

Note: When I’m feeling lazy, and don’t plan to freeze the tassies, I let Publix or some other nice company do it. Roll out one of their pie crust circles until a bit thinner and cut out circles big enough to reach up the sides of your muffin cup. I use a juice glass that is just the right fit, but it took a couple of tries to find the right size. Gather the scraps, reroll and keep cutting.

Overdale Relay Stuffed Blueberry French Toast

My fellow staff members at Overdale Primary School in Tallmadge, Ohio were enthusiastic supporters of Relay for Life. Quite a few of them spent the night at the event, but sleeping outside in a sleeping bag or on a beach lounge chair just did not appeal to this delicate flower. I was quite glad to get up at 4:30 to make breakfast and take it to the brave souls who did spend the night, however, and take my turn walking laps while they got cleaned up a bit and ate. One of the dishes they liked best was this French toast casserole.

One of my fondest Relay for life memories involved a then first grader who is a survivor of leukemia. She was asked to take part in the opening ceremony and was quite excited. It was a rainy week and every day she talked about the ceremony and worried that it might rain that day. She told me that she prayed every night that Jesus would make it "sun", and she knew He would because she knew Jesus would want it to "sun". She asked me several times if I thought Jesus would want it to "sun". On that Friday it rained pretty hard in the morning but was only sprinkling in the afternoon. Just as the little sweetie was to say her part, it stopped raining and a beautiful rainbow appeared. I guess she was right. Jesus must have wanted it to "sun". I have never heard anyone else use sun as a verb, but it makes sense. We use the word rain that way, after all.

Overdale closed this year, and most of the staff members moved with the students to Dunbar. I'm sure they have been warmly welcomed, but it had to be difficult to pack up all their things and leave the "home" they had made over the years at Overdale.

I understand from friends that they are as active in support of Relay for Life at Dunbar as they were when I had the privilege of working with them at Overdale. They just aren’t the Otters anymore.

Recipe

1 loaf white or whole wheat bread, crust removed and cut into cubes
½ loaf French bread, white or whole grain (Not a baguette)
6 cups frozen blueberries, thawed and drained
8 oz. cream cheese
½ cup sour cream
1 tsp. vanilla
8 eggs
3 cups milk
½ tsp. cinnamon
½ cup powdered sugar

Spray 9”x13” pan with vegetable spray and place cubed bread on bottom. Sprinkle with berries. Microwave cream cheese in bowl for 2 minutes. Stir in sugar, sour cream and vanilla. Spread over berries.
Cut French bread into 10 slices, ½ inch thick. Place on top of cream cheese mixture. Beat together eggs, milk and cinnamon. Pour over the bread. Gently push the bread down into liquid with a wooden spoon. Cover with foil and refrigerate overnight.

Bake, covered, at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Uncover and bake 15 minutes. Let rest for 5 mnutes or so before serving with warm maple syrup or blueberry syrup. Serves 10

Note: I have substituted heated low sugar jam for fruit syrup. It works great. I have also substituted blackberries or combined blueberries and blackberries.

Why Mema Plus Mother's Meatloaf

The story of how Mother became Mema has absolutely nothing to do with her meatloaf recipe, but digressing is one of my talents/weaknesses.

When nephew Monte was a young toddler, his granddaddy Ashby had a stroke and was quite ill for a long time. He and Mrs. Ashby lived on the Eastern Shore before the bridge-tunnel was built and getting to them on the ferry took so long. Pat needed to be with them during this difficult time, so Monte shifted between our house, his house and the Eastern Shore quite a bit during that time.

Unfortunately, it did not occur to us that my calling Mother Mama would carry over to Monte, but it did. We tried changing to Grandma, and every other name we could think of, and Mema was the one that worked. Since both Monte and later Melissa said Mema, it was only natural that David would when he came along. Monte and Melissa called Pat's mother Mama Duck, and David called Mrs. Williams Grandmother. When he was just starting to talk, he called Mr. Williams Man. It embarrassed Mr. Williams to have this little kid yelling "Man" across the church yard. We could not figure out why David had picked this name until he got old enough to say longer words and changed to saying "Man Daddy." (Granddaddy) Now if we could just figure out why the baby Rosa called Del Bepo. I thought it was so cute, but it disappeared one day to be replaced by Granddaddy. Tracy's dad is Grandpa.

I became Mema because the first time David put her in my arms he said ”Here’s your Mema.” I have to confess that I almost turned around to look behind me, even though Mother had died when David was in college. I felt quite honored that I would be called Mema, but I knew that no matter how hard I tried there would be no way that I'd be the Mema she was. What a lady!

Back to meatloaf.

I love meatloaf, and I love cold meatloaf sandwiches. I don’t know that Mother ever had a formal recipe for her meatloaf, but this is my adaptation of what she taught me to do. Many people use ketchup or barbecue sauce in their meatloaf, but Mother always used home canned tomatoes. As mentioned in the scalloped potato post, she almost always served scalloped potatoes and string beans with her meatloaf.

Recipe

2 lb. ground beef or turkey
1 medium onion, finely chopped or equivalent of onion powder
1/4 medium green pepper, chopped
¾ cup raw oatmeal
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
Dash red pepper
2 lightly beaten eggs or equivalent of substitute
28 oz. can diced tomatoes, divided

Scoop half the tomatoes from the can with a slotted spoon and mix with other ingredients. Shape into a loaf and place in sprayed baking dish.
Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Pour remaining tomatoes over meatloaf and cook another 30-45 minutes or so, checking for doneness after 30 minutes. Remove from oven, place on platter and allow to rest while you make the gravy.

Spoon off all but 2 T of drippings into a small bowl, and add 2 T of flour to the pan. Place on eye of stove and brown the flour, being sure to scrub up the bits at the bottom of the pan.

Remove as much fat from the drippings as possible and add beef broth to make a cup. Pour into the pan and stir until thick.

This makes at least 8 servings. For Del and me, I shape two loaves and freeze one raw for later. If I do that, I put half the remaining tomatoes into a freezer bag and wrap it up with the second loaf. Half the mixture leaves us plenty for sandwiches. I imagine you could cook both loaves and freeze one and half the gravy, but I have not actually tried that.

In case you would prefer to make the meatloaf exactly as Mother did, here’s how our recipes differ:

She did not put any tomatoes in the mixture itself. She just poured all of them over and around the loaf.

She did not make gravy. She served the meatloaf from the baking dish and we just scooped the tomatoes from the pan if we wanted to and put them over our meatloaf.

Mema's Special Spaghetti Sauce (Mema 2)

I don’t remember that Mother made spaghetti sauce, but Dolly, our aunt by her marriage to Mother’s Brother Mel, made it quite frequently and shared it with us. I remember that when the weather was cold enough that it would not spoil, she used to put a jar of sauce in Mother’s car which was parked behind Leggett’s department store. That was in the day when no one much bothered to lock either cars or houses in Emporia or Jarratt.

Mel and Dolly had lived all over because Mel had a career in the Army. He fought in World War 2 and had what they called a battlefield commission. I remember that Mel wore his dress whites to Bubba and Pat’s wedding and Dolly looked so elegant. She always wore her black hair up, in a bun or on fancy occasions in a more elaborate twist or curls. As she aged, she first developed a white streak and then it all turned silver . I remember that she always wore “Youth Dew” perfume by Estee Lauder. The young country/small town girl thought Dolly knew everything there was to know about the proper way to “do things." She probably did, after all those years of Army functions. Even in my day as an Army wife, they gave us a little book of social rules and regulations. How else would I have known that the wife of the ranking officer would be asked to pour the first few cups of tea at any ladies'event and the wife of the second ranking officer the first cups of coffee. Unless I've gotten it backwards, of course. It hasn't come up in our post army life, thank goodness.

They moved to Emporia after Mel retired, and we so enjoyed having them nearby. They were so good to Bubba and Pat and me. I remember that Dolly came out to see me get dressed for proms, and she was Mistress of Ceremonies at our wedding. They also gave the after rehearsal party, and Mel drove Daddy and me to the church and Del and me to the reception and back out to the house in his big new car.

Both Mel and Dolly are gone now, but it makes me happy to know that my cousin Barry and his wife Suzanne are now living in the house where he spent his high school years.

Back to spaghetti sauce. I used to make a pretty respectable sauce from scratch, but that got to be too much like work after I discovered MIDS sauce. It’s the only jar sauce I have ever really liked. It is made in Northeast Ohio and only recently found its way down to Georgia so I can make what Rosa calls Mema’s Special Sauce without dragging sauce home from Ohio when we visit. (Thank you MIDS and Publix.)

Mema’s Special Sauce (Mema 2, not to be confused with the REAL Mema)

1 jar MIDS spaghetti sauce
1 T olive oil
1 large clove garlic, minced
1/2 Italian style chicken sausage link per person, thinly sliced (comes precooked)
½ T fennel seed
¼ cup white wine
¼ cup water

Heat oil in sauce pan. Add sausage and lightly brown on low heat. Add garlic,and fennel sead and cook for 30 seconds or so. Add sauce. Pour wine and water into sauce jar, screw on top and shake so that you will be able to get every drop of sauce from jar. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes, or longer if you like.

You can substitute another jarred sauce, but it won’t be quite the same.



Continuing on the spaghetti sauce theme –

Tomato Basil Sauce

When David and Tracy were first married, he was interviewed for the cooking column of the newspaper where Tracy worked. They published a couple of recipes that he enjoyed cooking. One was for this quick spaghetti sauce.

Recipe

2 slices bacon
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
28 oz. can crushed tomatoes (Muir Glen is a good brand, but it’s more expensive.)
1 T oregano
1 T basil
2 t. onion powder
Dash cayenne pepper
Dash black pepper
Pinch of sugar if sauce seems sharp

Fry bacon until crisp. Remove from pan, drain on paper towel and crumble. Wipe most of fat from pan, but leave the brown bits, if any. Slightly brown garlic and add tomatoes, spices and peppers. Simmer over medium low heat for 15 minutes. Add bacon during last 5 minutes. Taste for seasoning. Serve over pasta.