Cooking Journal: Sunday Supper

At the inclusion of the memorial service for my dad, we invited everyone to join us for Sunday dinner, which was one of my dad’s favorite traditions.  My sister and her family - who lived in my hometown - went to my parents for supper every Sunday.  I’ve long been gone from my hometown, but I joined my share of Sunday dinners when I visited.  When I first moved far away from home, I missed dinners with my family.

My home has a similar Sunday tradition, though I call it supper, a nod to my time spent in Tennessee.  On Sundays, I usually make a dessert to go with the meal. As it happens, though Sunday is often a fancier meal, I serve supper most nights of the week.  We eat in the dining room or, if the weather is warm, on the back deck.  Even when I am the only diner, I take care to make myself a meal and set the table.  It’s a habit I picked up from my parents and it’s one that I value.  I find eating in front of the TV appalling.  Making and serving a homemade meal is how I show people that I love and care for them.  My ability to put a homemade meal on the table is one of the things I like best about myself.  It’s a bit old-fashioned, I guess, but I think that family meals are important.  I probably would have made a great farmer’s wife….and the irony of that statement is not lost on me.  

The older I get the more I think about the traditions and the habits that are the backbone of my daily life.  I think about their origins and their value to me.  I appreciate and value them as they deserve.

Banana Cream Pudding

On Sunday evenings, the weekend’s relaxation gives way to chores to get ready for the work week and that often feels a little depressing to me.  Somehow, Sunday evenings are even more of a challenge in May, when the work weeks are packed with busy activities and days away from home often last more than 12 hours.  This May, we’ve endured the Sunday evenings with delicious desserts.  I like my desserts old-fashioned and a few weeks back, I made an adaptation of banana cream pudding.

It was a delicious way to ease back into the week.

That’s happy!

Real Life Conversations with JT: Succession edition

The backstory: Sassafras House was built in the 1930s so there is only 1 bathroom upstairs; we must share that room.  Some mornings this creates a high demand situation.  Last week, while JT was attending a baseball camp that began at 9 am, we had one of those mornings.  I was in the bathroom when he awakened and the following conversation ensued.

SM:  Do you need the toilet?

JT:  Yes, I am the heir to the throne.

Because I needed confirmation that the kid is mine.

Food Friday: Grilled Cheese Trifecta

Last weekend, I set out to make sandwiches that all three of us would enjoy.  Grilled cheese is easy to adjust for picky eaters (ahem, JT) and comes together quickly.  Plus: it's buttered bread and melted cheese, so what's not to like?

JT had an old favorite: grilled provolone on sourdough bread.

T got pepper ham and American cheese on wheat bread.

I tried out this recipe for blue buffalo grilled cheese.

 Yum.

Birthday Weekend

T's birthday was Friday and we celebrated in style.  Style in this case meant pretty presents, steak for supper and a trip to the Harbor Freight tool store that she's been longing to visit.

On Saturday, we went to pick up her new car.  It's awfully shiny and, fittingly, the folks at Subaru were terrific.  Then we loaded in the boy and made an effort to demonstrate to him that we aren't fussy old folks.  We drove fast and rolled up to his baseball practice playing AC/DC at volumes unsuitable for our collective long-term hearing.

For dessert today, I made my first attempt at a lemon meringue pie, T's favorite.  No pictures of the pie because I'm going to need some practice before I succeed at that venture.

One of the the nicest things about having T in our world is being able to give her treats and celebrate holidays and birthdays with her.  She makes us laugh and loves us beyond measure even when we're difficult.   And we love her back.   That's happy, very, very happy.

Simba

Last year, Hurricane Irene uprooted my neighbor's tree and when they had the tree cut down, the stump remained.  Soon after that, they obtained a yard sculpture that sits on the stump and watches over their garden.  It's a gold lion and we immediately named it Simba.

Then we commenced to joking about it.  T started things by looking out the window, shaking her head and saying, "oh, Simba."  This brought JT and me rushing to the window to see what was up.  Nothing, of course.  We'd been bamboozled.  But the Simba jokes have continued.  This year, while moving stones in her garden for Hurricane Sandy preparation, T found our very own Simba.

He's admittedly a bit worse of the wear.  Between the cracked head and missing leg which causes him to lurch a bit, we think he fits in quite nicely at Sassafras House.  So now he watches over our backyard.  This month, he's tucked in some ivy at the base of the back deck stairs.  But's he's mobile, our crummy Simba.  Who knows where he'll turn up next?