Category: memories

Well Bless My Little Peapickin’ Heart

I do love food. A nice meal can make the whole wide world seem right.

And because I like to sample food and try restaurants, I’ve been aware for a while of this trend toward “comfort food.” Or, to put it more bluntly, what once was low class food has become high class.

Examples? Ratatouille, organ meats, meatloaf on a four star menu, gourmet mac and cheese.

This weekend The Good Man and I had some celebrating to do, and so we went to a pretty nice hotel for a very nice Sunday champagne brunch. The place isn’t four star, but it’s the sort of place where you put on your Sunday go to meetin’ clothes for a meal.

This was my third visit to the establishment which means it must be good. They lay out a stunning room full of well made and delicious food and invite guests to dig in.

I generally start light. Maybe a salad, a selection of fancy cheeses, a stuffed blintz.

Second round I head right to the carvery station because there is always a big hunk of fantastic protein waiting for me.

On this day, there was a tri tip sitting there begging for my attention, which I gladly provided.

Then I noticed there was a second hunk of meat off to the side. I strolled over. The sign said “Coca-Cola braised ham.”

Why, I do declare!

Right here in Northern California, a little ol’ Coca-Cola ham. And suddenly I got my southern on.

“Sir, is that really Co-Cola ham?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I haven’t had that since I was a kid. You know, they used to make that all the time back in the day.”

*laugh* “They sure did. Here you go, enjoy a nice big slice.”

I giggled behind my imaginary fan and went back to my seat and devoured that tender, juicy bit of pork like a famished linebacker.

So delicious.

But let’s be honest with each other here…Coca Cola ham was something folks made back in the day because it was cheap. An inexpensive cut of meat, pour a bottle of Coke over the top, let the oven boil out the water leaving a sticky, sugary sauce. Baste liberally.

And now here it sits like a crown jewel in a fairly high end restaurant. My, the times do change.

Of course, Co-Cola ham has a special place in my heart because it’s part of one of my favorite scenes in one of my all time favorite books Red Sky at Morning by Richard Bradford.

———

“Josh,” said my father, “have some more ham-with-Coca-Cola-sauce. Probably the last time you’ll have it for the duration.” He picked up a thick slice of the nasty stuff with the serving knife and fork, and I passed my plate. Glup. Good salt-cured Tennessee smoked ham. Perfectly good Coca-Cola from Atlanta. Put them all together, you’ve got Secrets from a Southern Kitchen.”

———

In other news, this morning I got up extra early so I could get a batch of chicken thighs soaking in my special marinade. Tonight they will be cooked up, shredded and made into enchiladas.

Apparently it’s old home week at my place. Does my little ol’ heart some good.






Image found over at The Greasy Spoon. Link includes a recipe for Coca-Cola ham, if you are interested.



You Scream, I Do Something Else Entirely — For Ice Cream

It’s a blisteringly hot summer day in Albuquerque and mom has hauled her three monkey children to the swimming pool at the Coronado Club (inside of Kirtland Air Force Base) to cool off and work off some energy.

I’ve swam and swam until all my digits are little prunes and then I swim a little bit more for good measure. Exhausted, I finally drag myself out of the pool to lay on the scalding hot concrete and let the sun dry chlorinated water from my arms and legs.

Mom is out in the grassy area surrounding the pool reading a book or chatting with friends. She always finds a lot of folks she knows at the Coronado Club. She’s been coming here since she was just eighteen.

I find my mom and plop into a lawn chair with my beach towel. Starving, I gulp down a sandwich or some cold fried chicken or whatever fun stuff mom has packed into the ice chest.

As the late afternoon sun begins to cast slanted shadows on the ground, if I’m lucky and have been a good kid, I’ll ask my mom for some money and she’ll agree. Cash in hand, I’ll dash to the food stand and procure a soft serve vanilla or chocolate ice cream in a cone.

I’ll bear the thing proudly, like Lady Liberty and her torch, then I’ll savor every last drippy bite.

Ah, summer and ice cream were made for each other.

However, lately, something dark and insidious rumbles inside of me, irrevocably breaking the summer fun and ice cream connection.

Seems I’ve developed a little ol’ thing called lactose intolerance.




It ain’t right. It’s some cosmic comedy, it has to be. Dairy and I are friends from way back. Ok, I can’t stand fluid milk, but sour cream, all manner of cheese, ice cream and half and half in my coffee are what make walking in this mean old world seem tolerable.

The Good Man marvels still at the vast array of dairy products I have in my fridge. I have a whole drawer devoted to cheese! Well, I used to…

Me? Lactose intolerant? It just isn’t even funny. Not one little bit.

I took my concerns to my doctor who nodded thoughtfully and said, “Well, you know, that happens pretty frequently to people over the age of forty. It’s common as we age.”

Great. That makes me feel ever so much better.

I use Lactaid and it helps some. It is, at best, an imperfect solution.

The only real cure is to stop eating dairy entirely.

Well that ain’t gonna happen.

That said, I have cut waaaaay back. And because the universe has a really excellent sense of humor, I also get rumbly tummy from soy milk, the most common substitute.

So far hemp milk and almond milk are my frontrunners for adding to coffee and having an ice cream-like treat.

They are fine, but just…not the same.

“I scream, you scream, we all scream for almond milk iced dessert” just doesn’t have the same ring.

Because we don’t all scream for that.

*sigh*




Image is, of course, The Scream by Edvard Munch, and is used under Fair Use as the image is considered Public Domain in the United States.

This week’s Theme Thursday is: ice cream



Extending the Holiday by just a Skosh….

This morning I sat next to The Good Man at breakfast at a lovely little bed and breakfast in Napa. There were two other couples at the table, also guests of the B&B, and the six of us talked idly of wine tasting and things to do in California as we got to know each other a little.

At the end of the table was a couple that were a bit older than the rest. The man wore a baseball cap showing he was a military veteran and the troop he was with.

One of the guys at the table asked him, “Where were you stationed?”

He replied, “Well…I was in Korea and I was also in Viet Nam, so I was over there, and also in the US a bit. I was sort of all over.”

The first man said, “I bet you’ve seen a lot of things.”

The older man replied, “Yep. And seen a lot of things I wish I hadn’t.”

This, of course, brought a moment of thoughtful silence to the table.

The man reminded me a bit of my dad, himself a veteran of Korea.

Just a two minute conversation that to me highlighted the holiday we just finished celebrating.

Thought I’d share it.



Plane Spotting

Today I have another story from my Costa Rica travels. Forgive me, longtime readers, but I have to get all these stories out and written down.

_____

While I was visiting San Jose, I had a chance to meet not only with coworkers at my own company, but some fairly high level representatives from local suppliers.

Which is to say, I was treated to some really expensive dinners by some fairly wealthy people by Costa Rican standards.

These were city folks from San Jose. The more advanced and sophisticated type.

In all of those conversations, it always became clear how proud Costa Ricans are of their heritage, and the talk would lead to stories about Costa Rica, both personal and historical.

And multiple times, over a cold glass of Cas, I heard a similar tale.

These business people in expensive suits would laughingly tell me how, on the weekends, people will pile their kids in the car and drive out to the airport. Cars park along the runways, just outside the chain link fence, and Costa Ricans spend the afternoon watching airplanes land and take off.

“They even sell ice cream!” they would say with a shade of embarrassment, and then say “well, it’s mostly the people from Alajuela that watch the planes.”

By the standards of San Jose, Alajuela is seen as farm country and the people from Alajuela are considered bumpkins.

So the implication is that only the rural folks watch planes.

But then, to a person, every time I heard this story, the speaker would finally admit “so, yeah…my dad used to take me out there too. We’d be out there with all of our family and neighbors. I used to love it, it’s a great memory.”

Then they’d also admit they had taken their own kids out to watch planes too.

Because it turns out watching airplanes is really less about being a bumpkin versus being a city sophisticate, and more about the spirit of community. It is families spending time together. It is friends and neighbors taking a break from working hard to simply feel the joy of watching modern airplanes landing and taking off.

“In Mexico, they’ve even built seats like football stands,” one guy told me, as if to say that while Costa Ricans enjoy the show, they don’t make it a permanent thing.

I smiled. Such a simple joy I heard as these stories were told. To me this is a prime example of how Costa Ricans look at life.

They may not have a lot of money.

They may work very hard.

They may have seen a lot of hardship in their lives.

They may have to ride a bus belching diesel for several hours to get to their job.

They may lament too much or too little rain.

But they never forget the simple joy of ice cream and airplanes.

That, my friends, is the heart of the Costa Rican philosophy of pura vida.

And that’s what I take home with me in my heart.

I told my coworker that after a week, I’m a little bit Tico now, too.

I’ll never watch an airplane again without remembering their kindness.




Photo caption by photographer: “Douglas DC-8-63(AF)…San Jose Juan Santamaria International airport”



Image from jetphotos.net

Today’s Theme Thursday is: community