Well you ask me
to sing you a love song
and I smile ‘n say
Hold on
Let me think
~Melissa Ferrick, Love Song

And then I sing you a love song in a foreign language-the language of food, of recipes.You know this blog is your love song. You can pick out the words and hear the tune. But, will you ever understand it? I think you do now.

You have learned the words and the tunes. You have watched my movements as I flip through cookbooks, plan meals and dance my messy way through the kitchen. Just in case…let me explain a bit more because as I thought about how to talk about this curious mixture of love and recipes…I learned more about myself, you, and those whose recipes I cook.

Joseph says I cook because I love. Is that his epiphany or mine? Both I think. I do. I cook to woo. I cook to nourish. I cook to teach. I cook to love. Meals can show off. Meals can feed people. Most of all, my meals are a hug, a kiss, a wink, a thank you, a caress, and the recipes the love songs that play in my cooking.

That is the draw of old cookbooks and recipe cards. Sure, the commercial ones with their funny pictures and fussy ideas on keeping a home amuse me. The ones that sing to me though come from Junior Leagues, churches, Women’s Auxiliaries, ones handwritten on a recipe card, ones with names attached. Those women share the love songs they sang to their families and their friends through their cooking. The ingredients may be foreign or impossible to find in these times. (celery Jell-o for example) The ingredients may just hide behind another name: oleo, xxxx sugar, number 2 cans.

But listen to the tune…you know this love song. This is the dinner made for a mother with a newborn. This is the cake made to celebrate a son’s birthday…his favorite. These are the pork chops and potato pancakes that could be counted on to bring a smile to her father-in-law’s face. These are the cookies that sing holiday tunes with Mama in the kitchen with excited children. She tucks these memories away as she tucks the cookies in tins to give to her friends. Recipes sing the love song of a cocktail party or a brunch filled with laughter and friends.The recipe that makes a full meal out of stale bread, an egg and a few slices of cheese? This is a longing love song to feed a family with a bare pantry and days to go before a paycheck.

This recipe? The chocolate fudge pie? It sings a love song of a mother distracting a brokenhearted teen daughter when she learned that not all friendships are forever. Look at this one! It is the recipe for the aspic that great-grandmother made for Sunday dinner. She never said I love you out loud…but she always had a cake on the glass cake stand in the dining room for you. Maybe the Lemon Cheese Cake? The Caramel Cake? Or the beautiful, slightly wicked Devil’s Food cake. Love.

This blog, these recipes, are my love song, their love song, a chorus of voices singing to you. Everything from my kitchen has heard my love song…from the mushroom dish to the hashbrown casserole to Mommy’s specialty and each family member’s special foods. Even the asparagus Jell-o, though no one liked the tune.

So, hold on, let me think, how strange at 39, I am sharing this love song.

It is Bread Pudding Recipe Exchange week. Bread pudding is a food I wasn’t fond of as a child but once I grew up and made my own for the first time, I fell in love with it. If you haven’t had bread pudding in years, give it a try. French toast in a casserole dish!

It is a great way to use up the ends of a loaf of bread or revive a stale loaf and a frugal dessert.

Here is how I do it:

Take about 5 cups of bread that you have torn into pieces. I like to use raisin bread, homemade breads, challah, etc for this but any stale bread works.

Warm 3 cups of milk in the microwave. Beat in 2 eggs, 1/3-1/2 cup of sugar (white or light brown sugar), 1 teaspoon of vanilla, 1 tsp of cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg. I do this in the casserole dish I am going to bake the pudding in. Soak bread in milk mixture for 15 minutes. Stir lightly. If you would like to add raisins, add them at this point 1/2-1 cup. Bake at 350 for about 45 minutes or until set.

We are in Madison, WI today. I lived here once upon a time a long time ago and loved it. So, today I directed Denise around…badly (when did they put that there? That wasn’t there! Uh, I think you turn here) After a failed look for Magic Mill, we ended up for lunch at Mickie’s Dairy Bar. Totally retro cool restaurant…old fashioned restaurant, there since the beginning of time (or at least the 50s. Pictures of the 1950s menu coming soon) and inexpensive, filling and fun. Not for the faint of heart if a bit of dirt and grime trouble you…but fabulous. If you are in Madison, go.

Yes, I know, you want a real recipe. Maybe some Jell-o with vegetables or a tuna casserole with say pineapple. Sorry. I don’t have one tonight. I just have a recipe for tired:

Wake up at 6 am after a rough night of sleep
Start work. Work hard until 9 am because things are going really well at work.
Go grab coffee
Come home
Make muffins (from a mix)
Hand out meds and muffin
Work hard
Update health info and list of questions to ask mother’s doctor
Work Hard…though with tech difficulties
Help mother shower and hand out more meds while working hard
Insist on her lunch
Tell her to finish dressing. Explain yes, you mean now because it is just an hour away from appt.
Have her insist it is in 30 min.
Take a shower yourself (because you have started your period early and shouldn’t go to the appt with her with stained pants on)
Drag wheelchair, paperwork, books, snacks, knitting out to car
Help mother out to car with walker
Drive to doctor-hit every light
Attend doctor appt
Take notes
Take mother to grocery store
Get home
Work REALLY hard because you are going on vacation the next day.
Make dinner
Work REALLY hard because you are going on vacation the next day.
Look for mislaid debit card because mother is having anxiety attack even though you know it is in the house.
Hand out meds
At this point stick a toothpick under eyelids to see if you are tired yet. If not, pack, clean, move tv, set up meds for while you are on vacation, etc.

Rinse and Repeat.

Back in the day…when the 15 yo was a glimmer in my eye and then in my uterus…I lived in a town with a Veg-All plant. Really. Actually, I lived about a block away from the Veg-All plant! It was exciting. Until that point I had not seen Veg-All in years! Maybe because I didn’t look?

About that time the infamous recipe cards came into my life as well. One is for the lovely, yummy, Veg-All casserole! You can cut the amount of mayo and margarine way down if you are fat conscious.

Veg-All Casserole

2 cans Veg-All drained
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped celery
1 small can chopped water chestnuts
1 cup grated cheese
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1 roll Ritz Crackers
1 stick oleo (margarine)

Combine the onion, celery, Veg-All, mayo, cheese and water chestnuts in casserole dish. Melt oleo and add to cracker crumbs. Sprinkle over top of casserole. Bake at 350 about 30 min or until bubbly

It is nearing the end of our grocery week, which means there is more produce than meals left…or is there? In any case, my family wouldn’t be thrilled if I made them another tomato, onion, and cucumber salad.

So for lunch today, I whipped up a favorite of mine, Gazpacho. All ingredients are approximate. You may need to fiddle a bit for your favorite version. In any case, it is quick, nutritious, and yummy.

Blender Gazpacho

1 large beefsteak or two plum tomatoes

1 cucumber

1/4 cup balsamic, red wine or whatever vinegar you have on hand

a generous spoon chopped garlic

1 1/2 cups low sodium tomato juice (In the midst of summer you can skip this and add a few more tomatoes)

2 green onions

1/2 green pepper, seeded

a couple of drops to a tsp or two of tabasco (or in my case Rooster Sauce)

Core the tomato. Peel the cucumber. Chunk the veggies. Throw everything in the blender and give it a whirl until it is the consistency you desire. I like mine a bit smooth.

Some people add olive oil and I do add 1/4 cup or so and it does add a richer taste…but I skipped it today. Chill (or don’t if you are in a hurry.) Since I don’t blanch and peel the tomatoes, it will separate in the fridge, but stirring will return it to a proper soup.

On Monday evening, I decided I intended to win a spot as a Blogher Community Keynote speaker. This revelation came during a discussion of, oh, I don’t even remember. Oh, I do! We were discussing the Blogher of the Week, MrLady. Her post On Motherhood knocked my socks off. It totally is Community Keynote worthy, but MrLady won last year. This year seems like a good year for me to win.

Anyhow, I announced my intention to Denise. She pointed out that I don’t write that kind of post. “I could,” I told her. Denise replied, “You do that.”

Denise knew this was a gauntlet thrown down. If she did not know it in the moment she said it, she did within moments. Denise has a way of making me stretch. I am a wee bit competitive. All night I annoyed her by looking at her from time to time and making thinking noises at other times. Denise knows when I am plotting. I am subtle that way.

Yesterday afternoon, we picked up RJ for Tuesday Night Dinner. On our way to pick up Joe, I announced I was going to be a Blogher Community Keynote speaker. “Good luck with that.” she replied in her 13 yo my mother is nuts voice. Denise quickly explained that she didn’t tutor RJ to say that. Then Denise said, “She just wants to be a community keynote speaker. She hasn’t written the post yet.” I explained that no, I had not, that I wanted to talk to them first. I started with “You see the problem is that I have a food blog.” RJ gave me that “Yeah, duh” look. “So I have to write about food” RJ explained, “Yes, that indeed is the idea of a FOOD blog. You can’t write about the pros and cons of a short do on a food blog.” This caused me to say that Susan Wagner just wrote about that.

At that point, we pulled up to the high school to pick up Joe. He got into the car (eventually!) and after the random “Tell me how your week has been” pleasantries of school pick up, I told him I intended to speak at the Blogher Keynote. “Ok.” “You won’t be embarrassed will you?” I pried. “No, why would I? You are my mommy.” Whether this is a matter of him being oblivious to embarrassment or whether it is a statement on the trials of being one of my children, I am not sure. I took it as a child proud of his mother instead of either of those.

Then the discussion of the categories began since there is not a “food” category. My children and Denise inquired if I would talk about purple meatballs, asparagus jell-o, my failure to make stuffing, the fact that any recipe with “surprise” in the name meant that I should not be surprised they will not eat it. Yes, my family loves to tease me about my cooking failures.

Discussion moved on. We arrived home. I made dinner. I did some work. I skimmed feeds. I wrote my post on this blog. I talked to the kids. I wandered by the white board where I had added to the shopping list a dress for my Blogher Keynote. This caused me to go look for the perfect dress. Joe came in to chat with me. We discussed the dresses I was considering. Which one would be right for the keynote?

Then it was time to take the kids home. Tuesday night car rides can be intense. Children who have been quiet will suddenly start talking. Last night was no exception. Except, we started talking about the dresses Joe and I were considering for the keynote. I pointed out that Joe seemed to favor the wiggle dresses. RJ spouted the party line about her mother being drop dead gorgeous in anything. I rolled my eyes. Yes, my child, I am. So are you. More discussion of wiggle dresses vs. flare dresses and why Joe prefers wiggle dresses. The flare dress models all hold them out to show the skirt and look silly in his eyes. I wouldn’t do that I proclaimed. “Yes you would” Denise shot back. “I would not. I would probably just twirl a lot.” “Oh, that wouldn’t be embarrassing.” RJ said with that 13 yo girl voice.

RJ spoke up and said, “Why do you need a dress anyway? You should be you. Wear a Melissa Ferrick t-shirt and jeans.” We laughed. She intensely defended the fact that I should be me, that clothes did not matter. Joe interrupted and said, “If you had seen these dresses, you would know some of them really looked like Mommy.” Denise explained that there are just some occasions where my being me means wearing a dress. I mused, “I think Joe knows something about his mother that RJ doesn’t know yet.”

The conversation moved on to the fact that I had not written the post yet. I certainly hadn’t won. The competition is stiff. I asked them to name a better blogger. The whole crew rolled their eyes. I conceded their point.

Then I told them that I COULD be one of those bloggers. I just was not. I was lazy (shorthand for focused on other things at the moment) and didn’t try hard enough. Joe pointed out that he gets this trait from me and his procrastination trait from his father. RJ claimed some trait from her father; I think her obsession with being perfect and had to think about what trait she got from me. Then she said, “SPARKLE, I get my sparkle from you.” I agreed. Then she started saying that is what I needed to write the winning post. Sparkle. Sparkle and judges who understood sparkle. Joe said, “It probably would help if you added sparkle animations to the text.” Denise and I groaned and explained it wasn’t MySpace or the 80s.

Discussion of the community keynote judges continued. This led to discussion of American Idol (a show I don’t watch but they watch at the other house). I asked about Ashton Kutcher, because we were talking celebrities. Ashton Kutcher caused the children to wordplay with his name and ask what he had to do with American Idol. I don’t know much about celebrities. Denise recommended I read Elisa’s American Idol recaps so that I would be knowledgeable about American Idol.

RJ made a comment about Greentinis. She inquired whether the audience would have them before I gave my keynote. I said, no, that is AFTER the keynote and I didn’t think there would be greentinis this year. She then asked about what to expect at Blogher. Joe said he hoped they had the shiny coffee machine back this year.

I dramatically whispered, “Well, it hasn’t been announced yet…but I am going to be one of the community keynote speakers.” RJ, Joe and Denise all laughed. Hard.

We ordered in tonight. I have a phone meeting tonight. I have had a day at work. My mother has been a bit down. So, we ordered in. What did we end up ordering? Well, veggie kabobs, broasted fries, sweet potato fries, and a Philly Cheese Steak. Now, I should know better than ordering in on such a day or any day. I particularly should not order in anything I can make myself. Better.

This includes Philly Cheesesteaks. Now I know that I am about to be heretical and describe a non-authentic Philly cheesesteak. I know this thing that came slathered in Whiz is more authentic perhaps. But, such is life and it is my retro food blog.

I grew up eating Philly cheesesteaks in Maryland. Our sub shop of choice was Corky’s Subs in Severna Park. (No longer there, sigh)  The steak sub there was lovely and the ideal set up in my head. Here is how you make it.

Get a proper sub roll. This is truly the hardest part…soft but a bit of chew to it. Grab yourself a box of Steak-Umms and throw a couple in your skillet and fry them up until done. It really does help if instead of a skillet you use a grill with industrial strength grease, but home cooks have little in the way of options. Use those first two to give to the family members who won’t want comes next.

Saute sliced mushrooms and onions (and sliced green bell pepper) in the grease leftover from those first two steaks. Slide to the side of the pan or throw on a plate or your mise-en-place bowl. Cook up another two steaks. Throw the mushrooms and onions on top. Top with provolone. Allow to provolone to melt. Slide on to the sliced roll (with mayo already on if you really want to do it up). Then…the other tricky ingredient-Hots. These can be impossible to find depending on where in the country you live. B & G makes a hot chopped pepper that will do, but also is a hard condiment to find in some geographical areas.

In any case, hold the mushrooms, peppers and onions for some of my family and the Steak-Umms for the vegetarians, but it turns into a meal that my family enjoys.

I was going to post after dinner tonight…something like Beef Stroganoff or Pea Soup or even Welsh Rarebit. All seemed retro and fun and like something I wanted to share with you. I could have posted though about my children’s excitement over the fact that I made stuffing for dinner.

But, on the way to post…and I was dragging my feet…I read this story about a 11 year old boy who committed suicide. 11…possibly just a few months older than my youngest. Why? Well, I suppose we won’t ever know exactly but he was bullied at school. Called “gay and a snitch” by his classmates, he probably didn’t think there was another solution. He is the second 11 year old who has chosen this way out.

The schools have their bullying programs. Bullying still goes on. I was a bullied child…a little odd, a touch strange, awkward, and easy prey for bullies. I rarely mentioned it. After all, the bully lived up the street and my mother and his mother getting together always was as stressful for me as it was for whatever happened at his house afterward. I had an idea of what happened there…and in the 70s that wasn’t to be reported either. I never was bullied by being called a homo, a dyke or gay. Whether I had hit a secure enough point by high school that it didn’t matter or if kids in my neighborhood just weren’t that creative, I don’t know.

I do know though that the fact that two of my children participated in the National Day of Silence doesn’t mean another child won’t lose his life to people taunting mercilessly. It doesn’t make children kind…the non-participating kids in my son’s high school made it a game to try to get the participants to talk. The kids in my daughter’s middle school were excited because it excused them from answering questions in class.

But instead of a cute recipe from a time where gay was used to describe a really lovely holiday get together, (but there were still bullies then too) I am going to go share this with my kids. I am going to tell them about why it does matter and that words do hurt. I am going to tell them that just because they don’t believe that this is a teasing issue–that it goes on. And of course, I am going to hug them tight and say a prayer for the families whose sons have been lost.

We are shifting to a healthier lifestyle here. Oh, who am I fooling? We are cooking some healthier meals but errr we slip a lot. In any case, I pulled out my Jack Sprat cookbook…a lovely retro 1973 cookbook for a healthy heart. There will be more on this later.

Something caught my eye though…the suggestion that 2 cups of pasta should be cooked in two cups of water. Covered. I immediately pictured all the pans that would get thrown out if I did such a thing. I think I will continue to “throw nutrients out with the cooking water” instead of throwing the pot out with burned pasta.

Tell me…do you ever boil pasta in so little water that it is all absorbed at your house?