Yeah, if I ever get back to Europe for any length of time, Garmish, Oberamegau ('scuse the spelling), and other Black Forest locations will definitely be on the agenda. I'd like to live in Europe for about two years so I can see everything I want to.
Family food memories are numerous. Unlike y'all, my grandmothers couldn't cook to save their lives. they were French-Canadian New Englanders living in New Hampshire, and all they did was bake roasts until they died or boiled dinners. Don't get me wrong, I love New England Boiled Dinners once in awhile, be them with ham, beef, chicken or corned beef. But you can only eat these basics for so long without a yawn. We have one memory of one grandmother who put fish under the broiler and a gosh-awful smell and smoke came out .... she had put lemon, butter, etc on it .... without removing the plastic wrap! My Memere -- I honestly don't remember her ever cooking, just Pepere. And very basic at that.
When the folks got married, Daddy presented Mommy with a "Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook". You know, the one with a red plaid cover. She learned from scratch. Since we were a military family, she learned from a lot of "war brides" -- French, German, Japanese, Korean -- wives. She was an excellent cook who dabbled in everything. I'm using past tense, she still is an excellent cook, but these days sticks to more basic cuisines. Hubby cracked up when we were on the road and he realized that I wasn't kidding. ALL of my friends growing up had French "war bride" mothers, and we ate like royalty on a shoestring. I'll never forget going with one friend and her mom to a rabbit farm in Utah where you picked out the bunny and they butchered and cleaned it for you. It made my best friend squirm, but I guess I was born a foodie, because I didn't even cringe (no we didn't watch, we sat on a porch swing while the deed was done) and to this day I remember the meal that followed and love to prepare rabbit (which I buy frozen these days). I also remember baby sis just learning to walk, tripping, and falling underneath a deer that was hanging on our neighbor's half of a pergola when we lived in a base housing duplex. Boy did she scream when she looked up! But that year every member of this family shot their limit and there were deer hanging everwhere. I guess some would find it scary, but I still love venison (and it is much better now than it was in those days) and 'though I'm not into hunting, I cage some from all of the "hunting widows" I know who are tired of it.
