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Old 02-02-2011, 04:17 PM   #11
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In the fall of the year, around noon on the Friday before opening day of deer season a large group of hunters gather and form a convoy of sorts and head out to deer camp. There may be 12 to 15 trucks lined up. They are loaded down with personal stuff plus supplies for the camp....One guy is pulling a big generator...another hauling diesel fuel for the generator,... another propane tanks for the stoves, and a couple of more laying in supplies. They get into camp, fire up the generator, plug in the refrigerators and freezers, and get the milk, eggs, butter, salt pork/bacon, sausage etc cooling, plus finish up any last minute chores that weren't done during one of the work days ~~ .On the way down it's up to the lead truck to set the pace. This can prove to be be painstakingly slow sometimes. It's his job to stop at every road kill...someone has to get out and spray a big orange day-glo circle around the 'possum, rabbit, squirrel, skunk, coon, armadillo,whatever laying in the road before moving on....Later in the afternoon another couple of trucks head down to camp...Along the way they stop and pick up any road kill that does Not have a orange day glo circle around it...This insures fresh meat for the camp that night....
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Old 02-02-2011, 04:26 PM   #12
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My mother never enjoyed cooking--her mother was a great cook and I think the cooking gene skips a generation, but I digress (this is the woman who served her children hard cooked eggs, spinach, and saltine crackers as that special meal when she and my father went out). One Thanksgiving, she didn't have any bread for the stuffing. She used bread crumbs. Trust me, you never want to make stuffing with bread crumbs. It was horrible. Then there was the first Christmas after my maternal grandmother passed away. For some reason, my mother decided we had to have lutefisk Christmas Eve (why remains a mystery to this day--my grandmother didn't serve it on Christmas Eve). Fortunately, my father grew up in a family that served fish, ham, and roast beef Christmas Eve. My mother ended up eating most of the lutefisk (and burped lutefisk for until New Year's Eve). I spit my first bite across the table and hit my brother in the eye (you do not want your first taste of lutefisk to be the "jelly" part), and the house reeked of lutefisk for a week. I think the happiest days of my mother's life had to be when my parents owned a restaurant. She'd call home at 4 and ask what to bring us for supper. Fortunately Ann, the head cook, was a much better cook than my mother <g>.
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Old 02-02-2011, 05:34 PM   #13
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Quote:
Originally Posted by joesfolk View Post
Craig, next time French/English dictionary!
Naw, I'll just find another Italian place!

Craig
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Old 02-02-2011, 09:55 PM   #14
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There's always meatloaf.
oops - forgot about the meatloaf -
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Old 02-02-2011, 10:06 PM   #15
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this is my mother's boo boo, not mine. when i was seven years old my mother married my step-father. up until that time, other people cooked for her. one day she decided to make a cake. don't remember what kind but was baked in a bundt pan. i think she must have read the recipe wrong. the thing was very hard and spongy at the same time. my sis and i rolled the thing back and forth the kitchen floor,and when it hit a cupboard door it would bounce against it and then off it would go. we were laughing hysterically, while my poor mother cried. she did reach a point where she could put a meal on the table. but never was much of a baker. lol
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Old 02-03-2011, 12:27 AM   #16
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the only one I can think of has been told to me a half a million times.
I guess my grandma had my uncle making pudding and was shaking it up (i'm pretty sure it was instant putting) and I guess the lid of the container was not on very well and while my uncle was shaking, the lid came off and chocolate pudding was all over the house. All my grandmother could do was sit down and laugh at the mess.
I however have not done such awesome things in my years..or if I have, i have blocked them out for prides sake. haha
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Old 02-03-2011, 12:48 AM   #17
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When my grandparents health started to decline, my dad undertook the daunting task of saving all his mother's recipes before she was gone. His mother was a fantastic cook and had thousands of recipes, all carefully written on little recipe cards and stuffed into shoeboxes that were all over the house. My dad started going through the boxes to organize them by category and weed out the ones she didn't want to keep. His goal was to have them printed in a cookbook before their 50th wedding anniversary.

His parents lived in Rome, GA and we were living in Huntsville, AL. I was in high school at the time. Since we could only go on weekends between work and school, and this was such a big undertaking, he decided to take the recipes home with him to work on throughout the week. One weekend as we were making our usual Friday afternoon trek to Rome, my brother was driving, I was in the front seat and my parents were in the back of the station wagon still shuffling through a box of recipes.

At one point my dad burst out laughing and said, "I know my mother had some weird recipes, but I have to ask her about this one," and read off a recipe called "Zucchini Ice Cream". We all had a good hearty laugh and couldn't wait to ask grandma what in the world kind of ice cream is made with vegetables.

That evening as we're sitting in the living room enjoying a visit, my dad finally asks her about it.

"Mama, I found this recipe in your box called Zucchini Ice Cream. Is that real? Did you ever make that?"

My grandmother sat up tall and donned a look of deep pride, then she said (with lavish emphasis) "Oh YES....we made that MANY times. It was one of your father's favorites!"

My grandfather, typically irritable elderly Irish man, shot back, "You ain't never made no zucchini ice cream!"

With white hot venom in her voice my grandmother retorted, "Oh YES I have and it was delicious! You ate every bit!"

Two days later, on the drive home, my dad looked at the recipe card again. He burst out laughing even harder this time, and after several moments (when he could breathe again) informed us that he had misread the card....that it said "Zucchinis In Cream".
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Old 02-03-2011, 10:46 AM   #18
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I love that story, sounds like Dh and I!
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Old 02-03-2011, 08:15 PM   #19
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Here is another quick one; Grandpa used to love his chocolate milk, and loved it when he had Quick for his milk. On the box it said to stir vigorusly, so he always stirred and stirred. Grandma would always say not to stir the bottom right out of the glass. Well...one time when he was showing off for us kids and stirring, the bottom really did break and come right off. Milk went everywhere, and we laughed and laughed!
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Old 02-04-2011, 12:56 PM   #20
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My grandma was never much of a cook- we let her be in charge of mashed potatoes on christmas and thanks giving ;) Anyway, she used to ask my grandpa how dinner was and he would say, "Well, the milk was good..." My dad was never so brave. When my mom tries a new recipe he always says it was good. The true test is when my mom asks, "Should I make it again?" My bf has picked up on this one- I know he really likes if when he says, "You should definitely make this again!"

On a side note, my grandma has been telling me since I was 14: "Honey, you don't need to be a good cook, you just need to be good in bed." I decided to be both ;). She also used to enjoy scaring away my brothers girlfriends with that one... But now he has a girlfriend who doesn't scare easy. Thanks grandma!
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