Rick and I just got home from his parents' house. We packed up a few boxes. And then I started going through some cookbooks. Some of them, I sat aside for our son to take. Some I brought home. Not that I need another cookbook, but oh my gosh, the memories some of those recipes bring back. Some of you already know this....had it not been for Rick's mother, I probably never would have learned to cook. We lost everything in the flood of 1972 (Hurricane Agnes). We ended up having to spend the summer with Rick's parents, until our HUD trailer came through and we could get back out on our own. And after Rick and his dad would go to work for the day, and after I fed our son, who wasn't even a year old then, Evelyn and I would start baking. We'd make pies or cookies. We'd make and frost a cake. We'd make cupcakes. We'd make yeast breads. That woman took me under her wing and she taught me everything she knew about cooking and baking. I was not the easiest cooking student and Evelyn had the patience of a saint.
So anyway, I'm sitting here going through some of her old recipes. And I remember.
I remember that, when she had to go back to work after her vacation that summer, she had me cooking the meals at night. God help them, they ate my cooking, but I know sometimes it wasn't easy. The first apple pie I ever made looked horrible, just horrible. Rick's dad took one look and said, "Um, no. I don't think so." Rick ate it; he said he was really good. It just looked bad. (To be fair? Bad doesn't even begin to describe it.)
I remember bringing our son out to the kitchen while I made a chocolate cake. He was playing with Cheerios in his high chair and when things got quiet, I turned around, just in time to see him reach into his diaper, pull out a handful of poop and smear it all over his face. Ewwww. After a good bath and clean-up in the kitchen, I went back to my cake and finished it.
I remember finding a recipe for beef stew that I still make to this day, almost 45 years later. It's still a mighty fine beef stew and I've tweaked and played with it to make it my own now.
I remember all the apple pies that we've made over the years and tossed in the freezer. Evelyn and my mother would come down to the house and we had a regular line going. They would peel and slice and it was up to me to put together all the pies. I got to the point where I swear I could make a pie crust in my sleep (and again, it was because of Evelyn, who insisted that I learn to make pie crusts). And we had a great time, just working together and talking. I'd put something in the crock pot for supper and the guys would come down later on and we'd eat supper before everybody went back home.
I remember the day when I was at their house and I was kneading pizza dough. Evelyn came out, looked at me and gave me a hug. She told me that I had finally gotten the knack of kneading dough and that I was doing a great job. It wasn't me; for some reason, that dough was behaving beautifully and I even had bubbles in the thing. It was a gorgeous dough. To this day, I'm at my best when I've got my hands in a big pile of yeast dough. I love to knead bread.
I remember not being used to an electric stove (my parents always had a gas stove) and when I finished making dinner, I had turned off all the burners. But I didn't even think about residual heat. And while we were sitting at the dining room table, the dish towel that I had casually tossed on the stove went up in flames. Rick's dad looked at me and said, "You know, you're gonna burn the house down!" And I felt "this" small. It was an awful feeling.
I remember being so afraid of deep frying that I refused to deep fry anything. Evelyn came through again and we made batch after batch of doughnuts. And for years on Doughnut Day, my job was to fry the doughnuts. I'm still really nervous around all the hot oil. But tonight I brought home her old Sunbeam electric saucepan...it's so old that you can't tell what the temperatures are anymore, but the knob is set to the right temperature for frying doughnuts. And this year, I'll be frying doughnuts by myself. I'll take some doughnuts to her in the assisted living facility. She still has a very sweet tooth and she loves when we bring in cookies for her. (On the way home tonight, Rick said he'd probably have to take Doughnut Day off work, just to hang out in the kitchen while I'm frying doughnuts....he knows I'm still nervous about deep frying. I didn't argue with him.)
I remember the time Evelyn and I wanted to try Alton Brown's way of roasting a prime rib in a terra cotta planter. She bought the prime rib; I bought a huge terra cotta planter and we tried it. Heavens, but it was Good Eats! Delicious. And Rick and his dad said that maybe we shouldn't be hanging out together because what one of us didn't think of, the other one did!
And I remember one day when the whole family was at our house for dinner. After dinner, Rick's dad looked at me and said, "Pam, you are the best cook I know, after Evelyn." And Evelyn said, "Nope, she's better than me now!"
I couldn't have done any of it without my mother-in-law. In a lot of ways, she treated me better than my own mother ever did. She is truly a wonderful woman.
So many memories of times with her. I am an incredibly lucky daughter-in-law.
So anyway, I'm sitting here going through some of her old recipes. And I remember.
I remember that, when she had to go back to work after her vacation that summer, she had me cooking the meals at night. God help them, they ate my cooking, but I know sometimes it wasn't easy. The first apple pie I ever made looked horrible, just horrible. Rick's dad took one look and said, "Um, no. I don't think so." Rick ate it; he said he was really good. It just looked bad. (To be fair? Bad doesn't even begin to describe it.)
I remember bringing our son out to the kitchen while I made a chocolate cake. He was playing with Cheerios in his high chair and when things got quiet, I turned around, just in time to see him reach into his diaper, pull out a handful of poop and smear it all over his face. Ewwww. After a good bath and clean-up in the kitchen, I went back to my cake and finished it.
I remember finding a recipe for beef stew that I still make to this day, almost 45 years later. It's still a mighty fine beef stew and I've tweaked and played with it to make it my own now.
I remember all the apple pies that we've made over the years and tossed in the freezer. Evelyn and my mother would come down to the house and we had a regular line going. They would peel and slice and it was up to me to put together all the pies. I got to the point where I swear I could make a pie crust in my sleep (and again, it was because of Evelyn, who insisted that I learn to make pie crusts). And we had a great time, just working together and talking. I'd put something in the crock pot for supper and the guys would come down later on and we'd eat supper before everybody went back home.
I remember the day when I was at their house and I was kneading pizza dough. Evelyn came out, looked at me and gave me a hug. She told me that I had finally gotten the knack of kneading dough and that I was doing a great job. It wasn't me; for some reason, that dough was behaving beautifully and I even had bubbles in the thing. It was a gorgeous dough. To this day, I'm at my best when I've got my hands in a big pile of yeast dough. I love to knead bread.
I remember not being used to an electric stove (my parents always had a gas stove) and when I finished making dinner, I had turned off all the burners. But I didn't even think about residual heat. And while we were sitting at the dining room table, the dish towel that I had casually tossed on the stove went up in flames. Rick's dad looked at me and said, "You know, you're gonna burn the house down!" And I felt "this" small. It was an awful feeling.
I remember being so afraid of deep frying that I refused to deep fry anything. Evelyn came through again and we made batch after batch of doughnuts. And for years on Doughnut Day, my job was to fry the doughnuts. I'm still really nervous around all the hot oil. But tonight I brought home her old Sunbeam electric saucepan...it's so old that you can't tell what the temperatures are anymore, but the knob is set to the right temperature for frying doughnuts. And this year, I'll be frying doughnuts by myself. I'll take some doughnuts to her in the assisted living facility. She still has a very sweet tooth and she loves when we bring in cookies for her. (On the way home tonight, Rick said he'd probably have to take Doughnut Day off work, just to hang out in the kitchen while I'm frying doughnuts....he knows I'm still nervous about deep frying. I didn't argue with him.)
I remember the time Evelyn and I wanted to try Alton Brown's way of roasting a prime rib in a terra cotta planter. She bought the prime rib; I bought a huge terra cotta planter and we tried it. Heavens, but it was Good Eats! Delicious. And Rick and his dad said that maybe we shouldn't be hanging out together because what one of us didn't think of, the other one did!
And I remember one day when the whole family was at our house for dinner. After dinner, Rick's dad looked at me and said, "Pam, you are the best cook I know, after Evelyn." And Evelyn said, "Nope, she's better than me now!"
I couldn't have done any of it without my mother-in-law. In a lot of ways, she treated me better than my own mother ever did. She is truly a wonderful woman.
So many memories of times with her. I am an incredibly lucky daughter-in-law.
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