Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Sunday, March 11, 2018

Stacked


I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again: Mom was a terrific cook.
But that is only incidental to this story . . .
Sunday dinner in the Stringam household usually consisted of some form of baked or roasted, uber tender beef and/or turkey and/or chicken and/or ham.
Creamy mashed potatoes.
Salad (green and/or jellied), cooked vegetables.
And thick, delicious gravy.
Okay, yes, there were variables on the theme.
But most of the time, this is what we looked forward to.
There were numerous ways of eating said delicious-ness.
Some of us had little, individual countries of food. Separated by the no-man’s land of bare plate. (I know that is how Husby insisted his food be served when he was very young. Till his father pointed out that all the food ends up in the same place anyway. Hmmm . . .)
Some didn’t care how the food was put on the plate.
As long as it was there.
And in large quantities.
I had my method, which rather morphed as time went by.
First of all, it was mashed potatoes in a mountain, hollowed out at the top to receive a lake of gravy.
And yes, it was so I could get—and maintain—more of the rich, brown yummy-ness.
Other things, veggies, meat, were crowded closely and if they got gravy on them, well and good.
Emphasis on good.
Except for the salad (green or otherwise), which was kept away from the others and eaten quickly (and first) to avoid any chance of gravy splash-age.
Say what you will. The food was amazing.
And gone.
As years passed, I discovered a new and better way of gormandizing.
Layers.
Potatoes topped by veggies topped by chunks of meat topped by a fountain of gravy.
Eaten all together.
Mmmm . . .
Married, with small kids, I went back to things flotched on the plate and eaten quickly (and usually cold) as I tried to get food into my littles.
I have found that this method has remained even though my littles are far from little.
Husby always has and still does calmly arrange his food. Season and butter to taste. Enjoy every mouthful. And finish long after me.
Now, my point in telling you this is:
During our last family supper, we had salads, roast beef, vegetables and gravy.
Most of my kids simply took.
And ate.
#3 son put down a foundation of mashed potatoes. Covered it well with vegetables and chunks of meat.
And smothered the whole mountain in gravy.
Yep. He’s mine.



16 comments:

  1. You had me at creamy mashed potatoes. And yes, yours.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This post of yours sure made me hungry! That food sounds delicious!

    I'd like to invite you to follow my blog if you'd like.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Potatoes are only there to hold the gravy.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Now I'm hungry! Your food posts really need to come with a warning! And your label was right on the money . . . I was NOT expecting the post from the title :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. When I was young, I went through a phase of needing the exact amount of everything on my plate. If there were so many peas, there had to be the same amount of carrots. And, there was a ritual surrounding gravy. I'm sure I wouldn't have lasted long at your house.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You and my Husby. Calm and deliberate in the midst of the feeding frenzy!

      Delete
  6. Ah, mashed potatoes! My favorite thing. This made me hungry... and tempted to give up on limiting my carbs. Miss the potatoes so. :-D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So do I! After getting them for at least one meal a day, I definitely miss them!

      Delete
  7. Definitely yours. As if there was any doubt.
    I don't like gravy on my mash though. I savour the mash for itself.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oooh! When it's really creamy . And buttery. Now I'm hungry . . .!

      Delete
  8. I've been known to make an island with my mashed potatoes, stick in a couple of broccoli trees and surround the whole thing with a beef casserole ocean. Other times I do like you and son #3, but not always. Sometimes I like my foods in separate piles.

    ReplyDelete

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