There are a few dishes that sit on my table today as did when I was a child. It is sometimes wonderful how we relate food today and the memories from our childhood, sometimes it isn't.
Traci, my sister can correct me on this one, however I am sure it was in October of 1978. We lived in a shanty in a small town in Clarksburg Pa. It was once a sturdy home, left to time and rented without up keep. The coal door still opened as we would feed the coal furnace from the basement and the coal truck put coal through that door. I doubt that at any time in life of that house was it ever warm during the winter.
I had returned from shoveling coal into the furnace as I was told to do, steam in the air, windows covered in condensation, the old brown TV with a fuzzy picture of the evening news was on. Traci and I often peeled potatoes as well as help Mom prep dinner as she had a full time job.
Dinner time in our house was that, all the family come together, sit, ask for people to pass around stuff. It was a Friday evening and Bobby's two children spent that weekend with us. So with 4 children, when Mom shouted dinner, the whole house seemed to rumble and shake as we made our way to our seats at the table. But this night it was a quiet "drag" to the table.
It isn't my fault if your having your own flashbacks by this time, perhaps, but let me tell you more.
Bobby and Mom thought a good meal was a meal where you would have to eat stuff that children think is gross. It doesn't matter how it was cooked, it was just nasty. Bobby's pick that Friday's meal, saute' liver and onions... with mashed taters...
I tried for an hour to climb my way through this meal, it was nothing smaller than Mt Everest, and almost no place to drive my fork in. It was cold and harsh, but Mom just kept pushing forward... Your not leaving that table till your plate is clean.. I remember listening to the clock tick as if minutes were hours...
As time past, I was alone in the kitchen while every one else fought for a spot to watch TV. Mom went in and put her night gown on... I knew better to waste the food, that is the real reason I didn't try to out smart my way through it. I wasn't a very clever child either and knew I faced a spanking or worse if I did get caught. Then, with a sad face as I looked at her, she said right....
Mom was a War baby and was raised by her Mom and a nanny as the story was told to me. So she had some of that hard liner and dry humor about her that had been caste into her as a young child by a Brit Nanny.
The blender was pulled out, she grabbed my plate, scrapped it into the blender, she came back and grabbed my golden Tupperware plastic glass which was filled with whole milk. In it went like she was a master chef creating a master piece... The blender bogged a few times at the start... than it ran...
She filled that same glass up, placed it before me and ordered me to drink it. I did so in total fear that she was about to become a monster.. Than she filled it up again until the blender was empty, again she ordered me to drink it, but this time my gag reflexes were about to explode. I lifted it up slowly, and couldn't get that liver infused milk drink taste out of my mind. I was crying and begging my way out of it, but I was stuck...
So the birth of liver and onions smoothie was born... The taste test didn't do so well, so it never became a popular fade diet or smoothie...
PS Please look at the labels I have attached to this post....
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