Look what's on the menu at Denny's in Woodbridge, VA.
Seems to me you could also call it "heart attack between two pieces of toast."
Food.
My stepson Jonathan was leader of a punk rock band in the late 80s called "Food," a troupe that started and ended its musical career the same night at the 9:30 Club in DC. When asked why he and his fellow band members named their musical ensemble after essential body nutrients, he replied, "Well, everybody knows food."
Yep. I suppose he's right.
When one encounters such culinary concoctions in life, memories spin back to recipes of childhood. My mother, Dottie M., was not fond of cooking, but had definite ideas about "nutrition." These thoughts included a stern list of foodstuffs:
1) Wheat germ
2) Frozen peas and carrots
3) Scrambled eggs
4) Steak
5) Beets
To which her kinder responded:
1) Yuck, we all hated it...especially when that horrid brown mess was swirled into orange juice every a.m.
2) My brother Kevin hated Fridays, as that time period GUARANTEED there would be frozen peas and carrots in the oh-so-Catholic tuna noodle casserole that evening.
3) Scrambled eggs. Poor brother Fran was forced to eat them. He used enough ketchup to drown us all so he could slide those suckahs down his throat. What a display.
4) My younger sibling Kathy would cry when steak was served. Seems the quality of beef my parents could afford at the time was too tough for her fledgling teeth. So beef nights were always full of tears.
5) Beets.
Ugh.
I know. They are full of iron and oh-so-good-for-you, but I am telling you, you can have mine, all swimming hot and warm in a bath of butter. If there is a hell, it is a beet.
One evening, around the time I was eight or so years of age, three aforementioned-prepared beets were placed upon my dinner plate. The verbal instruction was:
"Just eat one."
Nope.
My father Frank J. got Irish. "You are not leaving this table until you eat that beet."
OK.
I was abandoned by the others. Dishes were done. The whole family went about their business. Just like that crazy clock on The Twilight Zone, the hours went by. I sat. The single beet placed on a plate in front of me grew tired. I watched it as its moisture became rivers of red juice.
About 10:45 p.m., my old man came into the kitchen.
"Why haven't you eaten that beet?" he demanded.
"Cause you don't have to eat 'em. You hate 'em."
He grabbed the beet from the plate, threw it in the trash and commanded, "Go to bed."
What was it Winston Churchill said? "We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!"
Fond food memories from childhood Mare!!!!!! We all had our things! Thanks Mom and Dad!
I love Moon over My Hammy - heart attack between two pieces of toast!
Love,
Your sistah
Posted by: Kathy Gillen Mankin | June 11, 2006 at 11:26 AM
C'mon - just close your eyes and pretend you're eating liver.
Posted by: David R. Mankin | June 11, 2006 at 01:13 PM
Oh, but Mary, have you had fresh beets? Because that makes all the difference. Fresh orange and yellow beets, sliced thinly and tossed with olive oil and sea salt and roasted until they're sweet and a little bit crunchy? Fabulous. I guarantee you it would change your whole tune...
:-) Genie
http://www.theinadvertentgardener.com
Posted by: Genie | June 12, 2006 at 10:53 AM
Oh, but Genie, some of the best things in life never change. Beet=hell. Beet eq "null" Beet != happiness. But, you should all visit Genie's blog http://inadvertentgardener.wordpress.com/ It's well written and fun and all about her adventures growing a garden in Iowa...and so much more. Be well. Mary
Posted by: Mary | June 12, 2006 at 04:53 PM
Mary,
I saw this: http://www.eatlocalchallenge.com/2006/06/the_beet_goes_o.html
Couldn't resist passing it on, even though I know the results of the recipe will never touch your lips!
Thanks for the kind, commented shout-out!
:-) Genie
Posted by: Genie | June 14, 2006 at 11:11 AM