Mom’s kitchen talent…
We were a large family with lots of mouths to feed. I didn’t know it then, but being self-employed many times was synonymous with “unemployed”, which meant feeding a houseful of hungry kids took great skills and ingenuity in the kitchen. My mother was the master. Yummy pots of brown beans turned into amazing chili the next day and one of our favorites, “chili mac”, the day after that. I think Mom never saw a leftover as anything other than an ingredient for tomorrow’s meal. She grew up in a very large family and learned at an early age how to open an empty cabinet and pull out a meal. She has always amazed me with that ability. I never cease to be in awe of what she can create out of nothing.
Always Potatoes….
In our family, potatoes were a staple. Left up to Dad, they would always be fried, with lots of onion, and he believed they should be a part of every meal. Fortunately, Mom controlled that somewhat. However, in my mind, we had fried potatoes a least once a day. Potatoes, beans, pasta, white bread, eggs, oatmeal, pancakes, bologna, hamburger meat, (back when bologna and hamburger were cheap). These are the main staples I remember from my childhood.
Special Treats…
With a houseful of kids, we seldom ate out, but sometimes, usually on summer or weekend road trips, Dad would paint a sign for a local diner and we would all eat “for free”. Most of my greatest childhood memories center around these trips. This was before McDonalds, Sonic, or Taco Bell was on every corner. But most little towns had a local drive-in burger joint that we would visit when finances allowed. “Greasy Spoons”, Dad called them. The burgers were always the same, amazingly sloppy, with fantastic flavor, and tons of greasy, salty fries to go with. I remember one place we lived that had an A & W drive-in and we would go there sometimes on Saturday night for a “frosty cold mug” of root beer. But those were rare treats.
On the Road Eating….
Most times, meals were cooked and eaten at home, or if on the road, Dad drove while Mom slapped together sandwiches; white bread, bologna, cheese and mustard. My mind conjures up an image:
Mom is sitting sideways in the front seat, hair blowing in the breeze created by four wide open windows, brown grocery bag beside her, lifting out “sandwich fixin’s”, calling out ingredients as she goes. “Who wants mustard, who wants cheese? I have a tomato, who wants tomato?” (Due to her fear of mayonnaise spoilage, our options were mustard or no mustard.) She blurbs a glob of mustard on a slice of soft white bread and uses the second piece to smear it around. “Like magic”, she laughs as she peels skinny, red rind off a slice of bologna, plastic wrap off good old American processed cheese product slices, and slaps together the best tasting bologna sandwich in the world. If you requested tomato, it was usually fresh from a roadside stand and thick sliced with a knife fresh from Dad’s front pocket. Wiped clean first, of course, with the red or blue bandana pulled fresh from Dad’s back pocket. Probably the “clean” side where he hadn’t wiped paint or grease from his hands.
It was “on-the-road” eating and no gourmet sandwich could ever taste so good. It was the 60s, and just like everyone else, we had no concept of “litter”as a bad thing. I apologize today for all the bologna rinds we threw out the windows then. 😇
Thesignpaintersdaughter 