babetoo
Chef Extraordinaire
my thomas cat, loves watermelon, especially the juice. never seems to bother him but then don't think it is classified as citrus. he can tell i have cut a piece three rooms away. strange. cantaloupe and papaya
I was resting and thinking about having Haddock for supper. It got me to thinking about my my second husband, who was a commercial fisherman, would bring home all filleted the largest Haddock he found in the last catch of the day. It usually weighed at leas 10#'s. Most of the time it wasn't more than five hours old and never frozen like the rest of the catch in the hold. It was so fresh, I swear it was still kicking as I put it in the black frying pan.
The kids would ask "What,s for supper?" Now if I told them it was fish, they all would ave found a friend who would let them eat over their house. So I started telling them it was white chicken. Unbeknownst to them, they loved white chicken breaded, dipped in egg and breaded again. Then the white chicken would hit the cast iron pan until golden brown. As each cut up piece was done, it would go onto the platter sitting in a warm oven until there was a pile of it. The platter would come out of the oven and onto the table. By the end of the meal, there wasn't one piece left of white chicken. It wasn't until they were adults that I told them the truth.
When they each got married and had children of their own, I taught them how to make white chicken. Of course their kids hated fish also. So they each got to eat white chicken. And now the great grand-kids are also eating white chicken. So I will be having white chicken for supper.
That's rich, Addie. Wonder if I could fool a grown-up who only orders chicken at seafood restaurants.
I was resting and thinking about having Haddock for supper. It got me to thinking about my my second husband, who was a commercial fisherman, would bring home all filleted the largest Haddock he found in the last catch of the day. It usually weighed at leas 10#'s. Most of the time it wasn't more than five hours old and never frozen like the rest of the catch in the hold. It was so fresh, I swear it was still kicking as I put it in the black frying pan.
The kids would ask "What,s for supper?" Now if I told them it was fish, they all would ave found a friend who would let them eat over their house. So I started telling them it was white chicken. Unbeknownst to them, they loved white chicken breaded, dipped in egg and breaded again. Then the white chicken would hit the cast iron pan until golden brown. As each cut up piece was done, it would go onto the platter sitting in a warm oven until there was a pile of it. The platter would come out of the oven and onto the table. By the end of the meal, there wasn't one piece left of white chicken. It wasn't until they were adults that I told them the truth.
When they each got married and had children of their own, I taught them how to make white chicken. Of course their kids hated fish also. So they each got to eat white chicken. And now the great grand-kids are also eating white chicken. So I will be having white chicken for supper.
addie, if you wrote your autobiography i would gladly buy and read it. have you ever thought about it? or a memoir--you write so well, too. you wouldn't even need a ghost writer....
It has been mentioned before. But most of my stories revolve around my children or my childhood. My kids kept me on my toes. I was determined they would grow up learning. Even if it was one new thing each day. I grew up in a neighborhood that was totally alien to my background. I think I was the only non-Italian in town. Yet my mother taught me to cook traditional American foods. And my friends grandmothers, and mothers taught me Italian cooking. I got the best of both worlds. I have a lot of fond memories from both ends. And I came along right at the end of cooking with a wood stove and ice boxes for cooling foods. My mother grew up during the depression and she kept a lot of the belt tightening tricks that she learned as a child. She passed them down to me. And I in turn passed them on to my kids. My daughter keeps telling me to write all my tricks down on the computer so she can print them out when I am gone. So every so often a subject comes up here and I try to add my little bit to the conversation. English was one of my best subjects in school. So writing comes fairly easy to me.
It is amazing what children will believe. It all starts with Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny.
you served your kids the easter bunny too?!?!
the bands that payed tribute to the beach boys had terrible harmony. even as old men, the beach boys still sounded better.
you served your kids the easter bunny too?!?!