Wednesday, November 21, 2007
I became a vegetarian in January 1983 and when I told my parents you'd think I told them I was gay or something. Oh wait, that was the next decade! Anyways, my father about died of a heart attack and my mother was convinced I was going to die from malnutrition or scabies or both.
I'd go home and my father would beg me to eat meat. If I cooked something, he'd always say, "Well, this would be good if only it had some meat in it." It didn't matter if it was fruit salad or a cake, he'd still say that. My mother would ask me if I was eating the right combination of proteins, convinced that I needed to eat rice A with bean B and wheat C to achieve a balanced diet. She got over that quickly, my father continued pestering me until he died of a heart attack caused by his plaque-encrusted arteries (thanks animal fats!).
Thanksgiving rapidly became my least favorite holiday. First you have to understand that I come from a family of awful cooks. My mother is willing to admit that she never liked cooking, except for that crock pot craze circa 1976. Second, holiday meals, it didn't matter which holiday, always consisted of:
- an overcooked turkey (frequently with the gizzard stuff forgotten inside)
- store-bought, boxed stuffing
- instant mashed potatoes and margarine
- store bought warm-up rolls
- Waldorff salad (diced apples, raisens, walnuts, marshmallows, Miracle Whip)
- canned string beans
- canned yams (sometimes)
- Grandma F's cranberry relish (made with strawberry Jello, the Jello company reportedly used the recipe in one of their cookbooks)
- store bought pumpkin or cherry pie with Cool Whip
The cranberry relish was the best thing. Too bad Jello is made from ground up animal bones!
This was standard for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Easter. Sometimes they had ham on Easter, boiled in the pressure cooker for an hour or two. Boiling is the main characteristic of Midwestern cuisine.
So now that I'm the cooking I make everything from scratch and have banished Miracle Whip and Cool Whip and whips in general from my house. Tomorrow I'll make Thanksgiving Lunch and I'll ask Mummy if everything tastes delicious and she'll say something like, "No, I really didn't care for XXXX. I'd just rather eat mashed potatoes." Sigh.
Newer› ‹Older
I'd go home and my father would beg me to eat meat. If I cooked something, he'd always say, "Well, this would be good if only it had some meat in it." It didn't matter if it was fruit salad or a cake, he'd still say that. My mother would ask me if I was eating the right combination of proteins, convinced that I needed to eat rice A with bean B and wheat C to achieve a balanced diet. She got over that quickly, my father continued pestering me until he died of a heart attack caused by his plaque-encrusted arteries (thanks animal fats!).
Thanksgiving rapidly became my least favorite holiday. First you have to understand that I come from a family of awful cooks. My mother is willing to admit that she never liked cooking, except for that crock pot craze circa 1976. Second, holiday meals, it didn't matter which holiday, always consisted of:
- an overcooked turkey (frequently with the gizzard stuff forgotten inside)
- store-bought, boxed stuffing
- instant mashed potatoes and margarine
- store bought warm-up rolls
- Waldorff salad (diced apples, raisens, walnuts, marshmallows, Miracle Whip)
- canned string beans
- canned yams (sometimes)
- Grandma F's cranberry relish (made with strawberry Jello, the Jello company reportedly used the recipe in one of their cookbooks)
- store bought pumpkin or cherry pie with Cool Whip
The cranberry relish was the best thing. Too bad Jello is made from ground up animal bones!
This was standard for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Easter. Sometimes they had ham on Easter, boiled in the pressure cooker for an hour or two. Boiling is the main characteristic of Midwestern cuisine.
So now that I'm the cooking I make everything from scratch and have banished Miracle Whip and Cool Whip and whips in general from my house. Tomorrow I'll make Thanksgiving Lunch and I'll ask Mummy if everything tastes delicious and she'll say something like, "No, I really didn't care for XXXX. I'd just rather eat mashed potatoes." Sigh.
