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.