Friday, May 9, 2008

The Friday Five: Childhood Eats


If your stupid boat exploded and you had to swim to a desert island, you'd take
these 5 foods from childhood:

SIRRAH
1. Stone soup
As a product of Waldorf education I thought everyone placed a giant stone in their vegetable soup while it cooked-- it's how I imagine some Greek children must feel about throwing plates on the floor. However, like most things in waldorf education, stone soup was the exception and not the rule. The soup itself was nothing special-- a basic vegetable broth with carrots, celery and potatoes-- but the stone transformed it into something truly mythical, and being mythical was pretty much my favorite thing to do in kindergarden.

2. Salty Chicken
This little gem was one of Fina's creations, my Filipino housekeeper who played a huge role in my early years. Like many of Fina's recipes, this one was shrouded in mystery. What we do know? Crispy skin, onions, white wine and a lot of lemon. The rest will go to the grave with her.

3. BLT's
My mom and I were firm believers in the after school, pre-dinner snack, especially if there was a soccer practice stuck in between. While the version I now make is more involved, I still have a lot of love for the days of toasted sourdough and iceberg lettuce. Sometimes you just have to keep it simple.

4. 7-11 slurpees
Am I proud of it? No. But like it or not slurpees were big business for me from age 6 to 18. Also, try and take my coke slurpee away from me after 15 days on the desert island and you'll see a man go truly crazy. Like Stevie Nicks, alternating between laughing and weeping crazy.

5. Burger king chicken sandwich
When I wasn't playing with gnomes or collecting sticks, I was eating a burger king chicken sandwich. They used to cut them in half and then wrap each half individually. You really did feel like a king.

STARDAR
1. tuna fish
my mom is a master of tuna. it would appear on weekends, when a million friends were over, and we'd just gotten out of the pool: tuna with loads of celery, scallions, and dill, wheat thins to scoop it up in, and a dish of pickles and carrots. She was a renegade tuna-maker; sometimes there would be pickle relish in there, or diced green olives, sometimes parsley or basil. whatever was in the fridge that could be used went in to the big bowl. my number one pick for comfort, ease, and satisfaction.

2. warm milk and honey
mom used to make this for us before bed. the ultimate comfort drink.

3. cream cheese and olive sandwiches
there was a time when i was a very picky eater--no salad, no fish, no tomatoes, no condiments of any kind. my mom, at her wits end to come up with sandwiches for my lunch, tried pretty much everything. there was a long cream cheese and olive phase right before i moved on to salami and lettuce (no tomato! no mayo!). don't make fun of it til you've tried it.

4. filipino beef
fina, our housekeeper, was an amazing cook when left to her own devices; meddle with her in any way, or try and discover the recipe, and the food immediately went downhill. my memory of the original filipino beef is hazy, the taste having changed quite a bit over the years she made it, but distinct: thin strips of beef marinated in garlic, vinegar, lemon, ginger, onion, and some other secret spices, then sauteed quickly. sounds basic, but the taste was impossibly rich and tangy, an explosion of flavor that tasted like nothing i'd ever eaten before. i would do physical harm to someone to taste that original filipino beef again.

5.chicken soup
another alchemical creation of my mother's and eventually, of fina's. my mother's chicken soup: lemony, full of falling-apart chicken flavored with parsley, celery leaves, and carrots. fina's: sub in cilantro for parsley, put about 10 times as much lemon, and add some corn to thicken. both: amazing.

NJR
1. Clara's Black Beans.
For certain children of driven, successful parents, most of their childhood comforts are more closely associated with a caregiver than a parent. Clara, who basically raised my sister and me, comes from Guatemala, calls me her Corazon, and makes some mean refried beans. I have such fond memories of her sitting at the kitchen table, letting me help her pick the stones out of the pile of black beans on the table. Cold black beans on a hot piece of sourdough toast. Nothing more comforting than that.

2. Cream of Vegetable Soup.
Broccoli. Potatoes. Whatever. Delicious and so comforting. Clara usually made this too, by the way.

3. Anything My Grandmother Made.
I don't care if this is breaking the rules. My grandmother lived with us from about the age of 5 until she died when I was 8. She ran a cafeteria at a High School in Louisville, KY. By the time she moved in with us she could barely move her substantial frame because of her arthritis, but she would still assume a seat on the stool by the stove and work away at fried chicken, mashed potatoes, pork chops and milk gravy. And there would be lemon ice box pie in the freezer. She collected all of her recipes in a small book written in distinguished cursive, but she often left out one or two of the ingredients so nothing cooked from it ever tastes quite like it did when she made it. It would be a disservice to try to choose any one dish that she made, so for her, I bend the rules.

4. Plain yogurt with honey in it.
Maybe the most delicious but healthy-ish snack ever. Something about the tang of the yogurt really brings out the complexity and earthiness of good honey. Plus, the cold yogurt will harden strands of the honey to create a special textural treat-- a soft, round glob of warm honey, come on!

5. Victor's Chicken Noodle Soup
Anytime I am sick; or think I might be getting sick; or know someone who's sick; or just need to feel comforted like a kid, I get Chicken Noodle Soup from Victor's. I have yet to have a better version of anything like the classic Jewish style anywhere in the city. It's salty, fatty, packed with carrots and celery and just plain delicious. My family has been going to Victor's since it opened almost two decades ago. There may only be a few great things on the huge menu, but the Chicken Noodle Soup is one of them.

2 comments:

mrw said...

I remember the tuna! I also remember a few hot nights when your mom brought out ice cream and we got to eat it from the pool, with our elbows propped on the edges.

Lists are contagious, so I'll add my mom's delicious and wholly inauthentic chillequillas (say it like she did: Chi-ya-key-ahs) and Ezekiel bread toasted with butter and honey.

rm said...

Childhood eats. An excellent endeavor. Here's my list:

1. Winter chicken - A chicken dish of honey, mustard, curry powder, and butter. My mom had to bake it for an hour which made the kitchen warm and toasty on cold Chicago nights. She'd serve it with the rice pilaf from a box. Creamy honey mustard spooned over hot rice... a perfect winter evening.

2. Lentil soup - My mom's recipe is so easy - just chicken broth, carrots, onions, canned tomatoes, lentils, a few spices, and white wine with cheddar cheese on top, of course. We'd eat it in these little ceramic bowls with with lids. I didn't like the tomatoes as a kid, so I would carefully fish them out of the soup and put them in the inside of the lid. It was half the fun of the whole meal.

3. Noodles with butter, dried basil, and parmesan. Bad day? Upset tummy? Nothing sound good for dinner? Perfect. Make sure to add lots of butter.

4. Bread and butter pickles - For one weekend every fall, my mom and our across the street neighbor would take over our kitchen and make pickles. Bottles and bottles and bottles of pickles. Boiling glass jars, cucumbers and onions sliced paper thin, the smell of vinegar wafting through every room. And then the most delicious pickles I've ever had for the next few months - or however long they'd last. My best friend and I could go through a whole 8 oz jar for an after school snack.

5. Anything baked by my mother. Maybe her molasses cookies - thin, moist and chewy, with crispy edges. Maybe the carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Maybe the peach pecan pie. Maybe zucchini bread or banana bread or lemon blueberry bread. Maybe the sponge cake soaked through with strawberries and topped with whipped cream. How much can I theoretically carry after my stupid boat has exploded?