At my mothers Knee - May

As Mother's Day approaches, thoughts of my mother seem to be with me all the time.  Sometimes so intense I feel like I could "reach out and touch her" sometimes so obscure I have to close my eyes to see her face. I see her standing at the kitchen window with a look of longing on her face. I see  her in the backyard picking and smelling her  flowers and, as always, I see her  at the stove,  preparing food.   At the Bush household we didn't need a excuse to have a party, to put out food for the gang or to cook a big Sunday meal, we just did.  And anybody who stopped by was welcome.  But May was special for me.  It was Mother's Day, my moms birthday and my birthday.  My sister, Maryann, was the baker and for every occasion she would make her infamous vanilla cake with chocolate icing and rainbow shots, so moist with the perfect sweetness you just knew you were going to have two pieces. My mom would prepare the birthday and  Mother's Day meals she wouldn't (as my sister and I always asked) sit with her feet up and let us do the work.  She wanted to prepare a meal that showed us her gratitude for being our mother.  As I write this, I can smell the leg of lamb, the roasted potatoes and creamed peas.  I can see her braising the chicken in olive oil and gently placing it in her Pyrex dish with uncooked rice floating in chicken broth and a myriad of spices waiting to find their way into the dish.  It would bake  in the oven until all was ready to serve.  Served with Hot biscuits served and warm butter, Mint Jelly to marry with the lamb and as always (I have to chuckle) her signature Iceberg lettuce cut and served with cucumbers and tomatoes. I can see her opening the gifts from her family, mostly cards we kids made, feigning surprise and wonder at how beautiful they were. I can see her delighting in her birthday kiss from my Dad and I can see that shadow of longing that  sometimes came over her.  My Mom is gone, by sister is gone, my Dad is gone, but those threads of memories are forever weaving through my being, becoming inseparable from the fabric of my daily life seeping into my mind like the spices in the chicken dish and and never as much as in the month of May.

Roasted Leg of Lamb

2 Tblsp Dijon mustard

2 Tblsp Fresh Rosemary

2 Tblsp Thyme

5 cloves garlic, minced

2 Tsp black pepper

5 lb Leg of Lamb - scored gently

2 Tsp. Salt

In a small bowl, combine the  mustard, rosemary, thyme, ground black pepper and garlic. Mix well and apply to the lamb. Cover and marinate in the refrigerator overnight

Preheat oven to 450 degrees 

Place lamb on a rack in a roasting pan and sprinkle with salt to taste. Bake at 450 degrees  for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 400 degrees and roast for 55 to 60 more minutes for medium rare. The internal temperature should be at least 145 degrees. Let the roast rest for about 10 minutes before carving.

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AT MY MOTHERS KNEE: Cooking, Crying and Rejoicing

There’s something about riding a train that feels somewhat like sleepwalking, dreaming while awake, walking down a misty, foggy memory lane.  I boarded the 11:25 Amtrack Train from Stamford, CT going to Alexandria, VA  to visit my daughter, her husband and my grandson Evan.  Feeling a little tired, moving a bit slow, and just wanting to get there, I was not anxious to begin the journey.  I didn’t want to sit next to someone who felt the need to chat about “where we were going”, "what we were going to do when we got there” and  “why we decided to travel by train”.   But, I forgot my MP3  so I didn’t have my music as a buffer,  I didn’t have time to make a snack at home and  a hot dog from the Café Car wasn’t quite getting it.  So I’m in a funk, a misty, foggy  funk.  So here I am – oh by the way no one is sitting next to me, at least not yet – passing Greenwich, Ct, Port Chester, NY,  the Bronx, and into New York.  Next stop Trenton, NJ and then the Conductor says “Philadelphia, 30^th Street Station" and my mind goes in overdrive.  Images are swimming around my head of my father  (he was born in Philadelphia, and lived there through his early 20’s),  images of him walking  home from work with his long stride from the bus stop to our house, most nights whistling, waiting for one or all of his children to hear him and come running.  I was always looking for him hoping I would be the one to be picked up, and twirled into the breeze and set down gently with a kiss on the forehead.   My dad always carried a lot of Philly with him including his love of  Scrapple -  Scrapple is a food that is made from scraps of meat from boiling  a hogs head, or pig knuckles .  The scraps are mixed with seasonings and cornmeal and in our home was served for breakfast with eggs.  A very traditional meal in Philadelphia  -  and he made his own with the help of my Mother.  Mom would be the “helper” she would chop the onions, boil and season the meat, and pull the meat off the designated pig part.  She would grind the mixture and pass it on to Dad for patting and molding – but Dad made the scrapple.  Mom would be so anxious to do it exactly as Dad instructed, that it became a chore, so anxious to please, to be praised by Daddy.  Well I never learned to make Scrapple, because I always associated it with stress but I did learn to love it taste, its texture, and its mating with eggs and grits for breakfast. 

Dad and Mom’s Scrapple

   4    Pigs knuckles    Or  1 Hog’s Head

    1    Pound lean pork

    1 lg Onion, stuck with 3 whole Cloves

    3 qt Water

    1 1/2 tsp Salt

    1 tsp Pepper

    1 tsp Ground sage

    3 cups Cornrmeal

                       

Place pigs knuckles or Hogs Head in a large pot; add pork meat, onion, and water.  Cook slowly, covered, for 2 1/2 hours; drain, reserve broth.

Chill meat and remove some of the fat; separate meat from bones. Grind Meat in grinder or chop until very fine. Place meat in a kettle with 2 qts of the reserved broth.  Add salt, pepper and sage; bring to a boil.  In a separate bowl combine cornmeal with remaining 1 qt of reserved broth and stir into boiling mixture. Cook over medium heat until thickened, stirring constantly.  Pour into 2 9 x 12 loaf pans and chill overnight.  Cut into slices and cook in hot Frying Pan on medium high heat about 5 minutes on each side. Serve with eggs and grits.

At My Mother's Knee - Cooking, Crying and Rejoicing with my Mother

Spring. As a child, I looked forward to the change of seasons, because the change would mean new food choices, new recipes and a cheerier, brighter Mom.  At the first sign of Spring, the blooming of the Forsythia, a marked change would come over my Mother.  She would fill the house with two or three vases of freshly cut Forsythia and begin washing, ironing and rehanging the curtains - cracking the windows just a bit  to "let the fresh air in".  She would begin buying and storing her food choices for "Easter Dinner".  She didn't go out and do one big shopping for this event because her budget wouldn't allow it.  She would buy something each week and put it in the back of the cupboard saying "this is for Easter".    Our meals were lighter, gone were the stews and soups and casseroles of  winter, replaced by  lamb chops with roasted potatoes and fresh peas, veal chops with creamed potatoes, fish cakes with asparagus, chicken poppycosh, stuffed veal breast and her specialty "Roasted Leg of Lamb".  Mom would cook to the  voice of John Gambling on the radio and the music of WQXR.  She would come in from work dead tired, put her apron on and go directly into the kitchen with me following behind asking questions. "Why do you take the seeds out of the peppers"?  "Why do you cut off the end of the asparagus"? "Why do you have do wash the Chicken?"  and she always had the same answer "Because".  She was happiest in her kitchen, paring and cleaning her vegetables, sauteing  or roasting her meat choices, and waiting, always waiting for her Husband to come home from work.  For this was when her day really began.  We did not eat dinner until Daddy came home and then we would all sit around the table and enjoy the food my mother had so lovingly prepared.

Elaine's Lamb Chops with Creamed Potatoes

Lamb shoulder chops
Olive Oil

Fresh Garlic Cloves minced

salt
black pepper
ground thyme

Rub the Lamb Chops with garlic, salt, pepper and ground thyme.  Sprinkle Olive Oil on top and broil for 6 - 8 minutes on each side

Creamed Potatoes

6 tablespoons butter

     1/4 cup all-purpose flour

     2 teaspoon salt

     2 teaspoon of pepper

     2 cups whole milk

     1 tsp. Paprika 

Cover potatoes with water and boil until.  In another pot, melt butter, Stir in the flour, salt and pepper until smooth. Gradually add milk. Bring to a gentle boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Add cooked potatoes and toss gently, sprinkle with paprika, taste and add additional salt and pepper if necessary.

AT MY MOTHERS KNEE - Cooking, crying and rejoicing with my Mom

I sat at my mother's knee to learn to cook, to take a bunch of vegetables, chunks of meat on a cutting board and turn it into a delicious meal for her six children.  A red pepper would be sliced and diced until it fell into the pot in tiny pieces or cut into long strips that would curl when they hit the sizzling oil.  I sat at my mother's knee to watch her chop onions into 1/2" squares or sometimes into mush.  And yes I sat at my mother's knee and I learned to cook.  I learned to cook Stews, Gumbos and delicious Soups, but I also learned to read the recipe that was my mother.  If the onions were chopped to mush she was suffering, sad, angry, unhappy and as she chopped, the tears would fall.  I would say to myself "the onions are making Mommy cry".  But no, it wasn't the onions her tears were real, tears from a women whose spirit was broken, whose self esteem was crushed and whose self worth was all but depleted. Now on a good day the onions went into the pot in perfect 1/2" squares, the carrots were perfect rounds and the peppers, those glorious red beauties would swim through the stew like Lilly's on a pond.  Yes, my mother vented her feelings through her cooking and I sat at her knee not only to learn the basics of cooking, but to learn the trials and tribulations of a woman raising 6 children with a husband who could, on any given day, make her feel like a queen, put a smile on her face, allow her to sing while she cooked, spin around the kitchen  with the broom, but on another make her turn her onions into mush!


Elaine's Pasta Fajioli

2 large yellow onions diced
2 tbsp. olive oil
3 cloves of garlic
1 tsp. oregano
1 tsp. thyme
2 tsp. salt
1 tbsp. Cayenne Pepper
1 stick celery
2  cans canellini (white kidney beans)
2 cups ditalini (macaroni
2 tbsp. Tomato Paste
2 lbs Sausage Meat (sweet or hot)
32 oz chicken broth (have 2 additional cups on hand to thin out as needed)

In large soup pot, over low heat, put in 4 tbsp. Olive Oil  add Diced onions  and saute  until soft
Add garlic and saute for 2 minutes (garlic should be light brown)
Add  thyme, celery. salt and cayenne pepper.
remove all of the above from pot and add Sausage
Brown Sausage in pot an add vegetables when sausage is brown
Add Beans and stir well
Add tomato paste making sure paste is thoroughly mixed in
Let simmer for 10 minutes and add chicken broth - bring to a boil
Add macaroni, (not cooked) reduce heat and cook for an hour.
Stir often (do not let macaroni stick to bottom of  pot) and add additional chicken broth if need. 
TASTE AND ADD SALT AND PEPPER IF NECESSARY
 Soup should have a thick consistency
SERVE WITH BAGUETTE AND PARMESAN CHEESE