My mother was a meat, potatoes, vegetable kind of cook...her meals were always tasty and nutritious but rather plain and simple, nothing, as they say, to get up in the middle of the night and write home about. My grandmother and her sisters were all excellent cooks; they could whip up a mouth-watering-to-die-for meal in a heartbeat...and think nothing of it. No recipes, no planning - just the ingredients, requisite utensils and a stove.
Mama wasn't overly fond of cooking! She saw it as an utter necessity and consequently, she cooked out of duty, not love for the soon-to-be meal. She would often say it wasn't the cooking or shopping that disinterested her, it was the planning: what were we going to have for dinner this day, this week, this month? And so, when she cooked, she generally fixed enough meals for a week: several meats-chicken, a beef or pork roast or ham, and possibly, hamburger patties or a meatloaf. Since she worked as a librarian, her schedule was two nights a week and every other Sat on ...and she would cook her mornings and Fridays off...so we, always had nutritious,if not elaborate, meals. We certainly never starved and there was always fresh fruit... because my dad had a sweet tooth - don't most men? - cookies or cake or cupcakes and ice cream were generally to be found in the cupboard and 'frig. And on Easter and Christmas, Mama always made (my favorite) macaroni and cheese that I shared in this Ten/Tues post .
So, the story I want to share today is about Mama, fish and dogs. My father loved to fish. I remember many nights he spent on the lake in a boat, often alone but sometimes with friends, fishing. Morning would come and he generally had quite a haul of fresh lake fish. My dad didn't like to clean the fish but he had friends who would in exchange for a generous supply of the catch. The rest, Daddy brought home to our freezer.
When I was in the 5th grade, my mom was president of the school's PTA. They were having a fish-fry fund raiser and ran out of fish. Mama, knowing we had fish in the freezer, went home (walking) to get some more. As she was crossing the school yard a dog, apparently smelling the scent of fish, attacked her and took a pretty big plug out of her left thigh. She had to go to the hospital and get all sorts of shots and stitches. I'm not too sure what happened to the fish fry...
The other incident occurred about 8 years later: it was spring and we'd had a really severe thunder storm, if not tornado warnings - we lived in Toledo, OH and tornados were not unheard of...The electricity was out for several days and consequently, all the meats and fish in our freezer ( an upright like a refrigerator) had begun to thaw...so, my mother, on her Friday off, spent all day baking meats and frying fish - from one of my father's hauls. My mom couldn't understand, tho,' why the fish pile wasn't getting taller; she kept thinking it should be but it wasn't...She happened to turn around from the stove and caught our Collie dog, Danny Boy, slinking off to under the dining room table, with several just-fried pieces in his mouth. Aha! Caught in the act!
I love the story of Mama, Danny Boy and the fish...and think of it when ever I have freshly fried fish. Hmm, that gives me a thought: fish for dinner on Mother's Day... at a restaurant!
Be sure to check out this week's Ten on Tuesday posts for more stories on other moms' best meals.
Cheers~