Tag Archives: taste memories

Scent Memories

I’ve written about taste memories but just remembered some scent memories.

The small tobacco shop my father brought me to every few weeks was remarkable. He smoked a pipe back then and we’d go get him tobacco to place in his leather pouch. I don’t know that there are places like that now but I would love to step inside and sniff one as it would make me remember my childhood, holding Dad’s hand as we walked into the shop.

Mom’s prime rib, potatoes and my sides, usually three root vegetables. The smell of bacon, especially the ones we’re getting these days with cinnamon, or a savory one all hand-smoked.

Coffee. I don’t drink it, but I love the smell of coffee. The beans, the grounds, not so much the brewed beverage. I don’t have a moral imperative against it, It’s just not my cup of tea (which doesn’t really have a scent).

BBQ. Uncle B brought up his smoking rig one year and babysat his brisket for 13 hours, his ribs for five. He might’ve brought up some sausages that year, but I was into the brisket. Scent wafting over the house, that was a Texas treasure. And that one I got to taste. Amazing.

Whenever you want to feel like a kid again, load those taste and scent memories. Close your eyes and remember. Cheers and good eating! Dee

Re-Making

It took me a while. My mother died four years ago and I have a few things of hers, like her Lenox china for ten. I also have Nanny’s (my husband’s grandmother) setting for eight. We have service for 18 in an apartment that’s 1,248 square feet and a dining table for four. Fabulous!

A while ago my sister sent me an envelope with recipe cards from the early 1970’s. Every one, hand-written, brought back a memory. It was difficult, emotionally, to put them into context.

I talked to my brother the other day and he has her Hungarian Coffee Cake recipe, a bread we ate early every Christmas morning. I traded it for our aunt’s Piquant Meatballs and threw in BBQ Beef for good measure (because I mentally tortured him as a young child). That is a joke, dear reader, it’s just that he drummed on everything, especially on 14-hour car rides and drove me up a wall.

Taste and smell memories are awesome. Just making Mom’s pot roast brings back memories and it’s such a simple dish.

The BBQ Beef calls for three pounds of beef chuck. I haven’t made it in decades. I remember it being delicious, our homemade version of that supermarket stuff. When I looked at the ingredients I went to one of the cookbooks I have online (in the Cookbooks section, silly) and thought I might substitute a true Texas BBQ sauce while cooking the beef. The book is by Jeanne Voltz and entitled “Barbecued Ribs, Smoked Ribs and Other Great Feeds.” Publisher is Knopf, the same company that was smart enough to publish our beloved Julia Child.

It’s a wonderful cookbook (I’m not paid a cent to say this) and her regular rub, rib rub, peppery barbecued rib sauce and fresh cucumber relish are out of this world. I have over 200 cookbooks, and don’t cook every dish in every one!

I’ll let you know how this new, old family favorite turns out. My husband is having cold pizza at a seminar tonight so it’ll have to wait. And I was going to try chicken-fried steak tonight! He’s a Texan and his dad runs a ranch so I thought I’d try to wing it but that will have to wait as well.

There are many dinners (I hope) to come for us and family and friends. It’s great to be cooking for two, these past eleven years, instead of a toasted peanut butter sandwich over the kitchen sink for the 20 before. Don’t worry, my husband of nearly ten years and dog of nearly nine are not spoiled at all. Ask anyone! Right….. Dee

Old Times

I remember tastes and smells from childhood, but also music. My dad played the violin and had me take it up very young (not as young as Montessori does now) so  I grew up with classical music but big bands, Frank Sinatra (my favorite), and others.

When I think of moving near Washington, D.C I know the monuments, and all the weekend educational trips we took. I was too young to be hip but fell in love with Dave Mason, James Taylor, Carole King, Elton John. John Denver, even Johnny Cash who I adore now.

I remember standing in my mod kitchen, white wallpaper with funky daisies and a mod table and twirling chairs, and singing my heart out to “Tiny Dancer.”

Then it was Bad Company and Dave Mason, big time. Also Beatles.

In college it was ELO, Art Garfunkel, Jerry Jeff Walker, Pure Prairie League, Marshall Tucker Band and, wait for this, The Best of Bread. That was the girl thing we did in the dorms. Also we line danced, in the hall, best teacher ever from our B-Ball team, to who knows what. But all the gals danced.

Luckily I’ve evolved/devolved from that. As a former acoustic guitar student, started at age 50 with private lessons, I lean to Pete Seeger, Johnny Cash, Joan Baez (but can’t get the chords yet), Bob Dylan, CSNY, and even have an old song book from Peter, Paul and Mary.

Of course I’m limited by what I can play, but keep music I can’t play and even print out lyrics and try to map out the music. But I tend toward songs that tell a story, ballads if you will. With two or three chords came Puff, The Magic Dragon, or my first guitar song, Mockingbird.

Many years ago I led a tone-deaf trio singing Day is Done and Teach Your Children. Stupid kid got ahead of herself and tripped. Now you can give me a song and I can play it, provided I know the chords to play. I just see it in my head.

Should one play orchestral music for one in the womb? I wouldn’t know, except that my dad has always had a talent for music and the arts, and my mother became adept at cooking, never loved it, but was expert in accounting and near the end of her life doing volunteer work helping senior citizens do their taxes.

It’s funny that my husband and I have never talked about alternate lives, probably because we’re pretty stable together, especially given the circumstance of him being laid off last week.

Since I was five I always wanted to cook. Or be a lawyer. I never imagined the path I took or the man I met and married.

If he would have not been MENSA material (yes he’s been invited, never joined) he would have stayed on the farm but his parents made sure both sons went to college and got off the farm. They wanted a better life for their sons. I love them dearly for what they’ve put into these men, these leaders of people, their sons.

There is no loyalty these days with corporations, so there’s a brief blip here and young people (yeah, you’re really reading my blog) know that whatever you do, whatever you post, will be out there forever. Aside from dealing drugs, please try to do something you’re passionate about. If you learn animation Pixar may hire you. If you know math and science you’re headed to college and a great degree. Trust me. I tried to take shop in the 60’s and was forced to do home ec. Dee