Thursday, May 21, 2015
"Hot Fun in the Summertime..."
Lake Cumberland, Kentucky is
about five hours south of Cincinnati, but it became the center of my summer
life when my husband and I first started dating. He and a friend shared ownership of a
speedboat named “GoldiLox” (so named for the bagel-loving Jewish owners). We’d
make the trek every other weekend and spend three glorious days waterskiing,
swimming and of course, eating!
Days were spent driving the
boat around the massive lake with miles and miles of smooth skiing water. We’d
head out early in the day soaking up the sun until late afternoon. After hours
of multiple ski runs and swimming in the lake, we’d clean up and head across
the lake at dusk to feed the voracious appetites we’d worked up during the day.
A gin and tonic in one hand
and the wind from the speed of the boat blowing our hair and sunburned faces,
we’d head across the massive lake to Grider Hill Lodge. Not a Four Seasons
resort or fancy marina, Grider’s rustic dock and log cabin lodge might have
been overlooked by a less discerning palate, but we knew what was waiting up
the hill.
With all the calories burned
that day water-skiing, we were ready for a meal to replenish us . Grieder’s
restaurant was known for its’ pan fried chicken and peanut butter pie and they
more than lived up to the hype.
Before the days of eating
clean and low-fat, low-carb foods, the meal began with baskets of dollar rolls
and real butter. A salad came next; mostly iceberg & tomatoes, dripping
with creamy dressing. But the piece de resistance was the fried chicken.
Lightly coated and pan fried (no doubt in lard), the magic spices couldn’t be
duplicated. Add the mashed potatoes, buttered corn and green beans (something
healthy) served family style, and we were in food heaven.
We’d gorge ourselves to the
point of “almost full” because it was almost time for pie. The choice was
always difficult. They were known for the peanut butter pie, but often they had
banana and chocolate cream as well. As good as those pies were, they were
always a disappointment compared to the peanut butter pie. Fluffy and creamy at
the same time with an enormous meringue top, the peanut butter pie was always
cut into “Grandma”-sized slices.
Always too full to move right
away, we’d sit and talk with the lodge owners and staff for hours until they
closed. It became a sort of summer family and we visited often. As time went
by, we moved away from the area and sold the boat. But years later, we went
back to Lake Cumberland for a family trip with our children, and of course,
took them to Grider. Their menu still includes the Cumberland Skillet Fried Chicken and Laura
Ann's Famous Mile High Peanut Butter Pie.
It was delicious, of course,
but I think what it stood for was more important . The tastes, the smells, and
even the pictures on the wall brought us back to a carefree, easy summer life: even
at a time when we were dealing with all of the stresses of careers and
parenthood.
And, from my first bite of
fried chicken to the last morsel of pie, work deadlines, carpools, homework,
and “mom” stress magically disappeared.
Friday, May 8, 2015
"Your Mother Should Know..."
I hear amazing stories of
Sunday night spaghetti dinners with homemade sauce and pasta. Cake baked from
scratch with special icings and fillings. Bread and pies sitting on the window-sill
cooling; fragrant aromas wafting outside the house. Special dishes that are
remembered forever. But my food memories are a little bit different.
My mom is an amazing woman,
but cooking was never her forte. Between golf, tennis, bowling, and mah jongg,
the days kept her very busy.
My dad had office hours two
nights a week, they went out to dinner on Saturday night, and we often ate at
the golf or swim club throughout the summer. I only liked hamburgers, and my
dad would go out for a late night snack after dinner, so it was kind of hit or
miss when she cooked. There wasn’t a great rush to cook gourmet meals.
But heaven knows she tried!!
Honestly, she was creative if
nothing else. She was the first person to reinvent guacamole by making
“Broccomoli” dip as an appetizer.
But what I DO remember is
that every Friday night, (Shabbat for Jewish families), she would cook dinner
served at the dining room table, complete with linen tablecloth and silver wine
cups.
Roasted Chicken was the go-to
main course. She didn’t want to mess with success so that’s what we had every
week. It wasn’t bad, considering that her stove hadn’t been working at full
capacity for years.
Again, she was creative.
Although the temperature in the oven never got above 250 degrees, she
miraculously fully cooked the chicken by putting it in the oven around 10 AM
for a 6 PM dinner. My husband compared it to a full-sized EZ Bake oven with the
heating power of one light bulb.
So, do I have stacks of her recipes
that I’ve cooked for my family? No.
But what I do have is her
recipe for a wonderful life:
She doesn’t expect much, so she’s constantly overwhelmed by what she gets.
She never tried to “Keep Up With The Joneses” because she knew that if they really cared, they’d be
there for her.
She is grateful for everything. Her health, her living situation, her friends, her
children, grandchildren, and their families. She considers it a gift just to be
here.
She never stops learning. Just like the recipe “tweaks”, she’ll try something
new until she almost gets it and figure the rest out on her own. She’s a
voracious reader. She Skypes & e-mails, texts, and calls on her IPhone. She has a Facebook page with more friends than me. She still does yoga when she can, even if it's sitting in a chair.
She is open to new friendships daily. She believes everyone has something to offer and
tells me stories about the interesting people she talks to all of the time.
She loves her family unconditionally and we are the lucky recipients of her recipe for
life!
And I wouldn’t trade that for all of the pies and fried chicken in the world.
And I wouldn’t trade that for all of the pies and fried chicken in the world.
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