Grandma and the Iron Curtin

A recent sibling weekend brought to mind how differently you remember your childhood. Those nearest and dearest are happy to burst your bubble, usually in front of your husband and children and recount those discrepancies with glee. Of course Mommy never broke curfew, why she even came home early so as not to worry her own dear parents. Underage drinking? She wouldn’t think of it, that would have just been so wrong.

When I was in 4th grade, my Aunt passed away suddenly. Overnight we went from a family of four to a family of eleven. My parents adopted my five cousins and brought in my grandparents for reinforcements. We moved into the biggest house in a nearby town with a small separate apartment. Grandma and Grandpa moved into the apartment and put the two littlest boys in the connecting dining room.

My folks were young adults in the sixties, let’s just say they had a pretty laid back approach to kids. The innocent grandparents never knew what hit them. As retired schoolteachers they expected us to use our indoor voices, never run in the house and clean our plates. We of course behaved like we were raised by wolves playing wild made up games involving danger. The favorite was Dark House, a warped game of hide and seek. You’d turn off every light in the house and wait to be found. Best hiding places, the top shelf of the linen closet, and the built in clothes hamper, that is if the seeker didn’t lose interest after the first hour. Those spaces seem impossibly small now, I have no idea how we squeezed in.

If we wanted to go over to the inner sanctum of their side we had to knock politely and wait to be invited in. We referred to this as going behind the Iron Curtin. We had to show our passports and our clean hands in order to cross the border. The little boys seemed impossibly polite and tidy, the five oldest looked like we’d been running wild in the neighborhood, playing in the creek and rolling in mud. Likely we had been. My grandparents had to protect them from those hooligans, hmmmm….I think they mean us. It goes to show it nurture versus nature. The boys have grown up into fine sensitive men, essentially ads for tall-dark-handsome-with-big-white-teeth.com.

Grandma baked fresh bread every week for the family. My parents didn’t do dessert, but the grandparents liked a little sweet after dinner.

Grandma’s Apple Crumble
Fill a shallow, buttered baking dish with thinly sliced apples. Blueberries, peaches are other fruit may be used instead. Sprinkle lightly with a tablespoon brown sugar mixed with a dash of cinnamon. Combine:
½ cup flour
½ cup sugar
½ quick oats uncooked
1/3 cup butter.

Mix until crumbly and spread over fruit. Bake at 350 degrees until apples are tender. Serve warm with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. Blueberries, peaches are other fruit may be used instead.

But we know they loved us, admired our crummy art projects, came to our off key choral concerts, made sure we didn’t burn down the house when our parents were at work. Taught us that thank you notes and hard work will take you everywhere. So thank you Grandma and Grandpa for being just the way you are.

Sesame Chicken and Phil (FFIL)

Many, many moons ago, the Big Tuna and I left the bosom of our families back east and moved to sunny Arizona. As a fairly new bride my cooking skills were at the kindergarten level but I managed to piece together enough of a meal to keep us from starving to death. I should at this point say that after more than a quarter of a century, between us we’ve gained enough weight to have added a 5th grader.

During cold and bitter months we are a favorite destination spot for long lost relatives. We have one Far Flung In Law (FFIL) Phil who has a tendency to be a major critic of people for a little personal sport. On his initial visit he and the Big Tuna decided they’d go for a day of golf and we’d head out to a big dinner once I returned from my job at the old slave market. Upon my homecoming, the boys had been visiting the beer cart in the hot, hot sun and decided the little woman could hook them up with a little bite to eat. So be it, bacon wrapped beef filet, broccoli, and Rice a Roni it’s a meal, or is it….

Me: Something wrong with the rice Phil?
Phil: Mrs. Phil never makes Rice a Roni.
Me: Well Mrs. Phil doesn’t work so she has time to grow her own stinking rice.

Okay, I said the last line in my head, not out loud.

The following day, the Big Tuna left on a business trip but the good sport I am, made another feeble attempt at cooking something to please this picky in law.

4 chicken breasts
½ cup soy sauce
1 cup flour
2 Tablespoons Sesame Seeds
2 Tablespoons butter cut in pieces

Mix together flour and sesame seeds. Dip the chicken breasts in soy sauce and roll in the flour mixture. Place in shallow baking dish, dot with butter. Cover with aluminum foil, bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Remove foil and cook an additional 15 minutes.

Phil: This is the first good thing you’ve ever cooked for me.
Me: And also the very last. (Not in my head)

Phil staggers to town nearly every year, he stopped asking “What’s for Dinner” after about year ten. I will assemble a little meal for myself leaving them to forage for cold cuts and can openers. Sometimes he’ll even pop to take us out. The only thing I should mention here, is the best side dish with the chicken? You got it, Rice a Roni.

Mindless Chicken Marinade and Elote

This is almost too easy, so I’m going to add a side dish so people don’t think you’re a complete slacker in the kitchen. You could spend hours researching the perfect marinade for your chicken or cop out and do what comes easy, embrace it, it will give you more time for TIVO viewings of Project Runway or perhaps your secret guilty pleasure ,Judge Judy.

Literally all you need to do is dump a bottle of Italian Dressing on top of four frozen chicken breasts as you stagger out of the house in the morning, that’s it, really. One you get home slap those puppies on a medium high grill, six minutes each side. The only note I might make is that the individually packaged breasts seem to remain moist where those that are all jumbled and experiencing freezer burn get dried out. Delicious and quick, fastest meal ever. So on to the side dish…….to make it seem like you’re putting in the effort.

Corn on the cob, king of the side dishes, but we know we can do so much better. Elote is popular street food in Mexico, but way tastier than butter. You can either cook the corn on the grill or the old fashioned way in a boiling pot of water.

Combine the following in a small bowl:
3 Tablespoons fat free mayonnaise
2 Tablespoons fresh lime juice

In a separate bowl, combine these dry ingredients:
2 Tablespoons Parmesan Cheese
¼ Teaspoon Chili Powder
¼ Teaspoon Ground Red Pepper
1/8 Teaspoon Salt

Brush hot corn with mayonnaise mixture and sprinkle with cheese mixture and serve to the starving masses immediately. And just so you know…..Seth Aaron won Project Runway.

The First Supper

Why, even though we work all day we are faced with the age old question, “What’s for Dinner” when we walk in the door. I suppose since I have never changed a flat tire, my spousal unit considers turn about fair play. The difference being I’ve only had about 5 flats in my entire life and dinner is expected 365 days of the year. My goal is the same as many, to spend minimal time in the kitchen so I spend my time off enjoying my life with the Big Tuna (same significant other).

My mom ran a catering business on the side, but my family members relegate me to peeling potatoes and washing dishes since they deem themselves better around the stovetop then me. My friends however are the first to belly up to the table for seconds and proclaim they have never left our house wanting for more. I hope you find this blog helpful in pulling things together for a meal and make you a rock star with your family and friends without driving yourself over the cliff. The most important thing to remember is to enjoy the company and pour yourself a glass of wine before commencing. Let the games begin.