I participated in Dewey’s Readathon this weekend. Well, sort of participated. I stretched it out into three days because I had extra plans. Also, my month has to go A LOT more smoothly than this one has for me to have the stamina for a 24-hour readathon. So I was gentle with myself but still got a lot of good reading time in.
My go-to food when I’m hunkering down for a long reading weekend (whether in conjunction with an online event or on my own) is a series of snack plates that fall under the category of charcuterie. It doesn’t take much prep time. It also can typically be eaten with one hand, leaving the other free for smudge-less page-turning.
I don’t just resort to this type of meal when I’m reading, though. It’s a frequent staple at my place. This habit started long ago.
One of my favorite weekday lunches when I was little was a plate full of cheddar cheese chunks, Vienna sausages, raw veggies such as celery or carrot sticks, and crackers (typically saltines, but every once in a while we got fancy with those buttery Club crackers). Looking back, it’s clear that this was one of Mom’s favorite lunches for us, too, because we had it a lot. She was usually in the middle of a cleaning project or getting ready for afternoon errands or planning dinner, so it made sense to find something quick to put on the table. As a bonus, we could feed it to ourselves with relatively little potential mess.
My charcuterie tastes have matured somewhat (I now spring for the salami or prosciutto, and there may not be crackers or bread at all involved), but it’s still one of my favorite meals. It’s easy, simple, and delicious.
As integral to our family life as food was, I didn’t really learn to cook a lot of things growing up. Mom had a system, and it seemed to stress her out to have us in there when she was cooking.
But it’s hard to mess up a salad. We didn’t need a lot of direction (other than the main one of chopping everything into small bits so that a long-ass piece of lettuce doesn’t get dressing all over your face when you’re trying to eat it), so once my sister and I got old enough to wield a knife with minimal risk of peril, making a salad was our job.
I don’t remember a time growing up when there wasn’t a salad in the fridge, and that faithful constant remains true today at the farm. We made one every night at supper with enough left over for lunch or for a snack the next day. To this day, I count salad among my snack food options.
To this day, I also feel compelled to visit the salad bar if it’s available wherever I eat. I don’t always give in, but I feel the tug.
I do not often make a salad at home, though. I have done that enough to last a lifetime. I will buy the bagged salads with the ingredients already chopped and the toppings already prepared (Taylor Farms kits are my faves, particularly the Everything, Asiago Kale, Sweet Kale, and Thai Chili Mango kits) and make a whole meal out of them, but I rarely buy the ingredients alone.
But occasionally, I get a nostalgic urge for a basic green salad and the compulsion to chop it up myself. When that happens, here are my favorite ingredients:
Leafy greens of some sort (usually some type of lettuce, but I also love arugula and kale)
Radishes
Snap peas
Carrots
Whole cherry or grape tomatoes (I do not like tomato juice dripping freely throughout my salad)
Black or Kalamata olives
Dried cranberries or apricots
Some kind of cheese (my typical preferences are a sharp, hard variety such as cheddar, feta, or goat cheese)
A little bit of dressing (specifically French, Russian, Catalina, honey mustard, or Caesar)
[The makers of this cereal saw me coming. And it did not disappoint.]
Growing up, we mostly ate sensible, real food and balanced meals. We regularly ate dinner together as a family, especially when we were young. There was a main dish (typically meat or some type of casserole), a few sides, some type of bread, and usually something for dessert.
For breakfast most days, though, we were on our own while everyone was getting themselves ready, and we needed something simple we could make ourselves. So we almost always had a few boxes of cereal in the house. There are several that hold a bit of nostalgia for me:
Cheerios
Froot Loops
Corn Pops (known as their original name from Mom’s childhood, Sugar Pops, at our house)
Rice Krispies (and occasionally, Cocoa Krispies)
Chex (rice, corn, or wheat, depending on what was on sale)
Grape Nuts (neither grapes nor nuts but a fantastic topping for ice cream)
We also frequently had snack cakes at our house. They were easy sweet treats that no one had to take the time to make. Mom often included them in our lunch boxes. Is it necessary to provide a dessert in a child’s lunch box? No. But when you are raised (as she was) to consider dessert an essential part of a whole meal, well, old habits die hard. We had Zebra Cakes (although they were just called Snak Cakes when we were little) and the Oatmeal Creme Pies and Honey Buns and Swiss Cake Rolls (my personal favorite). Little Debbie’s competitor, Hostess, also made some of our favorites – Twinkies and Ding Dongs (and to a lesser extent, the regular cupcakes).
Today, I try not to purchase snack cakes very often. I will eat too many at once and get that wild feeling behind my eyes that happens when I eat too much sugar. Ditto for sugary cereals (although I usually have some Cheerios or Chex or Kix around for nights when I don’t want to make anything).
But when I saw the Swiss Cake Roll Cereal in the grocery store last week, I just couldn’t resist. Good going, marketing team. Let me introduce you to your target consumer (me). I tried to lower my standards before trying them. I mean, there was a good chance they were not going to be great. Sometimes these things don’t go well at all.
They tasted like Cocoa Krispies. And yes, I drank the faux chocolate milk the cereal made right out of the bowl at the end, just like I did when I was little (including spilling it on my shirt).
Thanks for the memories, Little Debbie and Kellogg’s. 10/10, will purchase again.
I would be remiss if I talked about our family holidays without mentioning the staple that still shows up every time we gather to celebrate. We may not have a pie or even a turkey, but we will have canned cranberry sauce.
I really, really love canned cranberry sauce.
And not just because it taps into whatever nostalgia I feel about the holidays, although that’s certainly true, too. I genuinely love it.
This “Ode to Canned Cranberry Sauce” by Malcolm Venable sums up my feelings perfectly. I will always – without fail – choose it over “real” or homemade cranberry sauce. If I’m coming over, don’t try to impress me with your fancy berries. Save yourself the trouble (or focus it on the potatoes or other sides), and just stick to the canned stuff. It is infinitely superior in my mind.
I know we’ve been talking about holidays in the last few posts, but I don’t even wait until the holidays to have it. I almost always have a can in my pantry – just in case the mood strikes – all year long. I did not even have to go to the store to stage the picture for this post (and yes, I did eat this whole display by myself. No regrets.).
When we are making the family holiday grocery list, I always advise doubling the cranberry sauce we think we’re going to need. Because otherwise, will anyone else get any? I am afraid I can’t promise that.
I eat it by itself.
I eat it with almost every bite of turkey or ham (or whatever main dish we have that year).
I eat it with dressing (or stuffing, if you prefer to call it that).
[Also, be prepared for me not to eat the stuffing if you actually stuffed it inside the animal you cooked. It’s not you, it’s me. And my picky judgment of your bad choices. So…I guess it’s a little bit you.]
I have also been known to spoon a dollop of whipped cream on top of some canned cranberry sauce and call it dessert.
LOVE. IT.
I have had actual arguments over the merits of cranberry sauce with extended family members. I don’t know why I bothered. After all, if others present don’t like it – hey, more for me.
Couple the fact that the cranberry is my favorite berry with the consistent texture and perfect tang of the canned, gelled sauce – our love story was destiny. And over the years, I’ve discovered I’m a purist. I’ve tried putting it in things, like mini-trifles with goat cheese and pecans, and I even tried to use it in a cocktail once (one word – don’t). But the way I like it best is just by itself.
Besides pie, another treat that reminds me of holidays at home is homemade candy. My mom’s side of the family made candy from scratch every year. Aunt Gale liked making chocolate-covered cherries (meh – maybe another reason I thought I didn’t like cherries) and divinity (also meh and so, so sweet). As I grew up, I discovered that these candies weren’t gross, but they did require a slightly more sophisticated palate than I had as a child.
What did not require a mature palate? Chocolate.
The day after our big family gathering on Thanksgiving, everyone went home and we continued to graze on leftovers because there was no room for cooking in the kitchen. It was candy day. Well, for us it was putting-the-Christmas-decorations-up day. Mom ran the show in the kitchen. I always listened for the exasperated sighs that told me her hands were getting tired, though, because they also meant she was open to my help. So I helped make at least one of the candies each year.
My favorite candy was (and still is) the Martha Washington. I do love coconut. And while we dipped all the ones that were coated in chocolate with milk chocolate, I prefer dark. Very dark. The darker, the better. Which is how I make them today if I’m making them at my house.
The millionaires are Mom’s favorite. Many recipes that you find will have you melt down caramel candies to make the nougat, and that’s fine. You can’t really mess it up. But if you want something truly delectable, make your own caramel as directed in the recipe I linked above. You won’t be sorry.
Well, you might be. Because you will probably burn your hand at least once, especially the first time you make caramel (or toffee flakes, which is what you get when you accidentally cook it a little past the soft ball stage. Sorry, not sorry). In fact, if you don’t burn your hand, drop the wooden spoon into the hot, boiling caramel (risking burning yourself again), and yell, “Shit!” at least twice during this process, are you even doing it right?
But if you make it past this stage with minimal injury, you will have the satisfaction of enjoying homemade caramel, one of the most delicious pleasures that exist in this life. And while many recipes, including my family’s, will advise you to simply add a bit of food-grade paraffin (canning aisle) to whatever meltable chocolate you have to make it smooth and shiny, you really should try tempering some good chocolate for the coating at least once.
[Aside: Expect cursing during this step, too, especially if even one molecule of water gets near the melting chocolate.]
We haven’t made candy in the last few years. It makes a lot, and it ties up the kitchen for a long time. As we’ve all gotten older, it just seems to add unnecessary angst to our time together.
I miss it, though. Even the stressful parts. It was one of my favorite holiday rituals.
(Picture blurry because I was shaking with excitement. That’s the excuse I’m going with.)
Before every visit to the farm, we always have at least one conversation about what we will eat. It starts with, “What sounds good?” and my answer – “Anything but liver or pot pie (which is an abomination)” or “Whatever’s on sale.” Steak is often mentioned with a certain amount of glee. I typically throw some sort of dumpling talk and a general disdain for any pork besides bacon into the mix.
When a holiday is approaching, the conversation definitely includes dessert.
Growing up, holiday desserts were a big deal. Our house was the gathering place for Mom’s side of the family, and everyone had their favorites. It was the only course of the meal that had its own table.
Mom would make at least three pies. The two standards were topped with gorgeous meringues – one chocolate and one coconut. The last pie changed every year – lemon meringue, apple, peach, or some other type. Aunt Gale would usually bring cherry and/or pumpkin, and a pecan pie always managed to show up from somewhere. There were also many dozens of cookies and sometimes fresh apple cake (with pecans, but I liked it better without them. Still do.).
It’s been a few years since Mom made pies. I miss them, but with her memory issues, she has a hard time focusing on the recipe long enough to make it and that’s frustrating for her. When only the five of us are there these days, I imagine it’s also disheartening to go to all that trouble for several things that won’t get fully eaten.
Could I make a pie for our holiday meals? Yes, I could. But which one? We all have different favorites, and we’d never be able to choose. Also…I have a confession.
I don’t like meringue.
I know it’s beautiful and many people actually enjoy the taste. There’s nothing wrong with it…per se…and if I am served a piece of pie with meringue at someone’s house, I will gratefully eat it and go back for seconds. Because pie.
But it’s so…squishy? Spongey? One of my dastardly uncles called it calf slobber one time, and that was a little too close to what the texture seemed like to me for my comfort. *shudders*
Still, it doesn’t quite feel like a holiday without them, front and center, on a table full of other pies, cakes (oh gosh – Aunt Gale’s hummingbird cake), candy, quick breads with a ridiculous amount of pecans in them, fruit, etc. The table full of desserts meant ’tis the season and company’s coming.
You know how, when you show appreciation for something or show someone how much you love it, you suddenly start getting a startling amount of those things as gifts? Now, this works out well when you hint to people who know how to pick out good coffee – like my sister – that it would be a stellar gift to receive. And it is pure delight, when you actually collect things like souvenir coffee mugs, to receive them when people return from their travels. But it also sometimes means you go from having one cute crystal pig wine stopper that you make the mistake of gushing over to receiving pig-themed items for years to come.
This is what happened when you told MeMaw Sharp your favorite dessert.
Almost every kid goes through an adventurous (relatively speaking) phase where they’re excited about trying new things. Every new thing they like is suddenly “the best” or “their favorite.”
I didn’t think I liked cherries when I was little. Aunt Gale’s cherry pie was very intense for a kid whose expectation when you said, “pie” was either chocolate or coconut cream. So when I tried MeMaw’s cherry cheesecake, I did not have high hopes. But it was delicious. I was over the moon. I immediately declared it the best thing I had ever eaten, in much the same way my sister praised the German chocolate cake (even though it had nuts in it, which we were generally opposed to as young girls).
Ah, the hyperbole of youth.
From that moment on, every time we had dinner at MeMaw’s house, the desserts were a choice between cherry cheesecake and German chocolate cake. You’re welcome, family. How any of us even like either of those things anymore is a mystery.
In fact, until recently, I hadn’t had a cherry cheesecake in years. Cherry is still not my favorite fruit pie, although I will no longer turn a slice down. Because pie. And really – because of the ice cream that I inevitably put on top of fruit pie.
But during my icebox pie phase that is still continuing from the summer, I tried to recreate MeMaw’s cherry cheesecake, and I was delighted to find that I still love it just as much as I did when I took that first bite.
My version doesn’t taste exactly like hers. I think she added lemon juice which I did not, and I definitely dosed mine with a healthy glug of Chairman’s Reserve. But it still hits my nostalgia receptor right on its synapse (don’t @ me if my olfactory memory science is off – you get the point).
Ingredients:
1 premade graham cracker crust (or make your own like this)
8 ounces cream cheese (or the lighter Neufchâtel works fine, too), softened
1 cup powdered sugar
1 cup heavy cream
1-2 tablespoons vanilla
A shot of spiced rum (or two half shots, as you will not use it all at the same time)
Your favorite cherry pie filling (canned or you can also make your own)
Steps:
In one bowl, beat together the cream cheese, powdered sugar, vanilla, and half the rum.
In another bowl (or, if you don’t want to wash the beaters after step 1, a quart-sized mason jar with a tight lid), whip the cream until soft peaks form (alternatively, shake the daylights out of the jar for about four minutes to yield the same results).
Fold the results of steps 1 and 2 together until fully mixed and pour into the prepared pie crust.
Refrigerate or freeze until set (four-ish hours).
Add the rest of the rum to the pie filling and spoon it over the top.
Enjoy!
The pie pictured above was made with a premade crust and canned pie filling because I threw it together in the middle of the week between work and choir practice and topped it during a short break from writing later that night. But when you have the time, I highly recommend making both from scratch. The pie, while already delicious just as it is, will be infinitely better.
Also, if you’re on the fence between refrigerator or freezer, it basically comes down to time (freezer is faster) and texture. Do you want the first serving to have the consistency of thick pudding or ice cream? I am Team Ice Cream, so I put mine in the freezer to set, but kept it in the fridge after adding the cherries because they get real weird in the freezer. I have, however, combated this phenomenon before by stirring them right in with the cream cheese /whipped cream before pouring it into the crust, and then you can just keep it frozen. It neither looks nor tastes like MeMaw’s at that point, but it is still glorious.
I realize the picture above may not automatically match the post’s title in everyone’s mind.
But in our family, you can use the grill for just about anything. Never one to waste an opportunity to plan ahead or cook in bulk, Dad cooks a lot when he goes to the trouble of firing up the grill. He will grill lots of meat that we will eat at the upcoming meal, and that will be the priority, of course. He may also grill some vegetables for the meal or make veggie packets to place on it that will steam perfectly in the residual heat.
He also cooks the bacon and sausage that he uses for breakfast almost every day in bulk. Taking the pre-cooked bacon out of the freezer and just warming up what the two of them need gets the everyday breakfast he makes for himself and Mom on the table without a lot of fuss. He “accidentally” (thinly veiled fib) makes extra when he knows I’m coming for a visit so that he can sneak a bucket of bacon or sausage in the to-go cooler when I leave.
I use these particular reserves in different ways, though.
For supper at the farm, meat is the star of the show. It’s the main course. There are usually 2-3 veggies or other sides, plus a salad, to go with it. This is what constitutes a proper meal there.
When I’m at home, however, most of the meals I cook don’t have meat at all. And when a meal does contain meat, it may be part of the main dish, but it’s rarely the centerpiece. Sometimes, it’s little more than seasoning.
When I returned from my visit to the farm on Labor Day weekend, I brought about as much meat back with me as Mom and Dad eat in a week. I, on the other hand, spent the next couple of days using it to cook big-batch meals so that I could freeze portions of them to eat throughout the month. A month later, I still have a couple of portions left in my freezer.
The meals I cooked included:
Spaghetti with spicy marinara and bacon
Steak, sweet potato, and kale stir fry
Orecchiette with bacon alfredo
Ginger fried rice with steak, bacon, scallions, and carrots
Warm corn, green bean, carrot salad with steak
Sausage and broccoli stir fry
Most stir-fry meals are pretty straightforward – you can tell most of the ingredients by just looking at them. And almost all of mine start with a saute of garlic, onion, and ginger. Here’s how I made the sausage and broccoli stir-fry pictured above (6 servings).
Ingredients:
1 onion, chopped
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
Several cloves of garlic, minced
Sesame oil
Olive oil
Red pepper flakes (to taste and optional…ish)
Soy sauce (optional but recommended)
Salt (especially if you don’t use soy sauce) and pepper
Large bag of frozen, chopped broccoli (of course, you can also use fresh, and admittedly the texture is better, but frozen is sooo easy)
1 quart (or about 1 1/2 pound) ground sausage, browned
2 cups rice
Steam rice according to package directions or according to how Woks of Life does it. Or if you want leftover rice you can freeze for up to 3 months so that it’s ready next time you want to make fried rice, bake a big batch of it (a winter freezer staple of mine, because I do not turn on the oven in the summer).
If using frozen broccoli, microwave in a bowl for 4 minutes (or steam in the bag according to package directions, if that’s what you bought) and pour off the excess water.
Generously coat the bottom of a large skillet or wok with equal parts sesame oil and olive oil. Warm oil on medium-high heat and add onion, garlic, and ginger. Cook until soft. Add red pepper flakes and stir to mix.
Add sausage to skillet to brown (or if pre-browned and frozen, to thaw and warm throughout).
Add broccoli and stir together with sausage, allowing everything to finish heating evenly (shouldn’t take more than 2-3 minutes).
Remove from heat. Add pepper and either soy sauce or salt to taste.
This cooler is currently sitting in my apartment. Actually, there are two of them. They’re identical – right down to the Terry name written on them in permanent marker right under the handle – and neither of them is technically mine. I’m usually pretty good about taking the one I have with me to the farm every time I go, but I guess I missed one of them at some point. No worries. Dad knows they’ll eventually show back up. They always do.
They’re the family coolers.
These coolers have gotten a lot of use over the years. When Tammy and I were growing up, they were mostly used for transporting food that needed to stay cool from the house to a potluck through the Texas summer heat. They were also useful when we had to drive anywhere and wanted to have sandwiches or snacks along the way.
My first memory of using the coolers was on our trip to Colorado to see my Aunt Vicki. The cooler sat in the middle of the backseat, and I was tasked with keeping it from falling to the floor or shifting around too much (why this was important is less clear to me – I suspect it may have just been something to occupy my attention during the long drive). It was probably filled with a mix of our go-to favorite sandwiches and snacks:
Bologna and cheese on Mrs. Baird’s white bread (with Miracle Whip)
Tuna or chicken salad sandwiches (also with Miracle Whip…usually on white bread but sometimes on wheat for the grownups)
Carrot sticks
Celery sticks
Cucumber slices
Cherry tomatoes
Vienna sausages (still in the can but also in the cooler because they’re “better cold”)
Eating the same type of food anywhere except our kitchen table always elevated it to something special. It made it seem like a treat to us but also must have saved our parents a lot of money on food while we were away from home. Double win.
Now the main thing we use these coolers for is transferring food from the farm to our own homes. Every time I visit, for example, Dad takes the opportunity to make steak, and he always grills more than we can possibly eat while I’m there. We also make extravagantly larger portions of sides, even though there are really just 1-3 more people for each meal.
When we were growing up, this simply would have meant we had lots of leftovers for later in the week. What it means now that there are just two of them there most of the time is that the leftovers come home with us.
I mean, I will take leftover steak (or potatoes…or green beans…or bacon…) that I neither had to cook nor buy. I will take that every single time.
Thus, there is usually one of our coolers in my apartment, a constant reminder of one of the specific ways our parents show us that we are loved.
Food tells the story of place. As I’ve been reflecting on the concept of home this year, I have been delighted to discover how many memories and experiences that mean home to me come with a menu. I (and a lot of the important people in my life) echo Julia Child’s sentiment – “People who love to eat are always the best people.” The scents, the tastes, the ambiance created around a table full of friends and/or family – I’m not sure I could really explore what it means to be at home without talking about these things.
While the bulk of the actual writing for this series will all happen this month, I’ve been outlining these posts since June. I’ve had a lot of fun revisiting old recipes and seeing if they taste the same as I remember. I’ve also found a lot of joy in reading cookbooks, food memoirs, and foodie fiction to find new things to try (my favorites of which I will showcase during Friday Fives).
Full disclosure – this may read like a food blog this month. I am pretty stoked about that myself, as I looove food blogs. When a person generously shares the food they love with the internet, I don’t just want the recipe. I do want to hear the story behind their favorite soup and the beloved person it reminds them of. Or, at the very least, I want to hear what makes their particular spin on lasagne noteworthy. I want to know the special place this dish holds in their life. If you want that, too, then you’re going to love this series.
I also invite you to share any stories in the comments that come to mind when you read the posts. I want to hear which foods have impacted your life. And if you have some recipe (restaurant, cookbook, etc.) that you think I really must try, I am all ears!
[Aside: if you’re one of those food blog haters who just want the recipes without having to endure the arduous struggle of scrolling to the end to get to them, this may not be your favorite month on my blog. See you in November.]
If you’ve been here a while, you know how my 31-days projects work. I’ll post something new every day and index the links here. Enjoy!
M. Suzanne Terry 