A Fridge Full of Food...and nothing to eat

This is my philosophy on food:  it's all good.  Or maybe to be a little more spiritual, let's say I believe in a time and place for everything under the sun, in the fridge, and on the stove.  I don't believe in locking myself into any one style or ethnicity and I believe there is no real place for snobs in the food world. It's all good, from the dishes that take all day to prepare to those put together in a snap, from those most organic, most expensive, and least familiar to the average working Mom cook, to what I call church basement recipes, the casseroles we all make for comfort and for our less food adventurous family members.  These are the recipes we make almost apologetically, all the while adoring every bite but secretly pretending we don't. 

Let me digress for a moment of fun. Come on, folks, let's all come out of the closet for a couple of minutes and acknowledge that there's a reason Campbell's is one of the largest companies in the country.  When I'm tired and have a dinner attention span of 20 minutes, chicken, rice, with cream of mushroom soup is on my table. Don't even pretend and tell me it's not on yours too.  Learn this tip from me, though, if you take nothing else from my blog. Ready?  If you sub orzo for rice you can totally convince yourself it's haute cuisine on a shoe string because life is sucky busy and when you have kids, God bless those unreasonable little monkeys, they actually expect and feel it's their right to demand to be fed at least once a day. Pfft. What's up with that?

So now that we've gotten all that out in the open, let me tell you about myself.

I was raised by a pair of the best cooks on the planet. Okay, I'm little prejudiced and given to hyperbole. But then again, my mother and grandmother were the best cooks on the planet. They were both deeply southern, frugal woman raised in and raising big families.  They could turn a couple of pounds of the cheapest cuts of meat and vegetables from the garden into something beautiful to behold and plentiful enough to share with whatever neighbors, friends, or family happened to stop by the house at dinner time. 

My grandmother managed a "fountain" for 20 years after my grandfather passed away in  1952, leaving her to raise six children on her own.  The fountain, a lunch counter, was in the Jupiter department store in downtown Springfield, MO.  Its competition was the Woolsworth's fountain a few doors over.  She brought my mother into the business as a teenager, and as a young woman when I was a toddler, my mother took over the Jupiter store in another part of town.  Jupiter, owned by the parent company Kresge, was the forerunner of today's K-marts.

I grew up in a home and family where food was both appreciated as a creative outlet and run like a business.  My mother could short order any meal for five kids and a meat and potatoes husband without blinking.  I was the oldest and a girl so I literally grew up at my mother's side in the kitchen on a daily basis, and at my mother, grandmother, and aunt's sides in the kitchen at family holidays. 

My mother, also a cake decorator, baked out of our home for extra money.  I'll give you three guesses, although we both know you only need one of them, to name who got to  play dishwasher, make bowls and bowls of frosting, and gradually moved up in the "company" to chief baker while my Mom decorated.  Yep, you got my number.  I'll tell you sometime about the childhood birthday parties of the offspring of cake decorators. Let's just say it was a little ugly with all that wailing and gnashing of teeth and begging of "Pleeeeease don't make us eat CAAAAKE!  We want JEEEEELLLOOO, anything but cake."  You can say it.  We were ungrateful little--monsters would be a more civilized word than what I'm sure now as an adult Mom was thinking at the time--and we broke her heart.  Or not. Maybe she thought "Thank God, I don't have to bake for the little buggers" and just pretended to be heartbroken. Either way it was a guilt trip she used with relish.  We paid dearly as we grew up, often reminded of how not nice we were as kids.  Great story for family get togethers, though.  We still crack up when we mimic each other whining.

My point is I followed in those footsteps and went into the Hospitality business.  I worked for years as a convention, banquet, and meeting planner before opening my own cake decorating and catering company, heavy on the cakes and catering lightly when called upon.  So the love affair with food continued in my generation and while I know my grandmother, Nannie to me, is proud of that, I also like to think of my mother, Karen, sitting in heaven saying to her older sister, Emma, things like  "How many times did I tell that girl that white cakes are supposed to be white?  But she's a good girl and she can cook because I taught her everything she knows."   In my home, food was love.  Food was art.  Food was talent. Food was also a pragmatic show of organizational skills.

My Aunt Susan, my mother's baby sister, once said to me of my husband "Too bad you married a man to whom food does not mean love.  That really messes with your head, doesn't it?"  Yeah, no kidding. It took me years to come to grips with the idea that food, to Gene and his family, is....food. Gasp! What the hell is that all about?  Food is just food.  That's crazy talk, pure and simple, and we'll have none of that here.  So let's be sane.  Let's talk about food...and love...and family...and good friends.  They are all intertwined together in my mind and my world.

Comments

[sher]

Hey!!! I come home from vacation and what do I find???? You move fast--but I'm not surprised at that. It's fabulous--can't wait to read more.

[Colleen]

Am excited to see what you have to offer. I think I'M the one who married the guy to whom food means EVERYTHING to.

[Mary leigh]

Ah, I always knew we were sisters in spirt! I, too have come from the same backround thanks to my grandmother and mother. Thay came from a long line of women who knew how to cook, bake and raise their families. Good luck my friend...Mary Leigh

[Glenna]

Sher--Well, you know I didn't want you to be bored when you got home! Thanks so much--I'm seriously honored by the compliment. I love your blog!

Colleen--You have to forgive him. He's a refuge from the food & beverage business too. Being obsessed with all things food is like a virus we can never get rid of.

Mary Leigh--I remember what a great cook you were when we'd get together--thanks for the compliment!

[janell]

this is great. Remember i'm married to a man that will eat anything. He grew up with his mom having breakfast at 7am, lunch at 12pm and supper at 6pm. No cold cereal, no pb&j sandwiches.. Homemade bisquits, rolls or cornbread every night....

[Glenna]

Janell--Hey, no pressure there, right? Thanks for joining me! I love having you here.

[SueMelin]

Thank you for calling it like it is. I have a theory--food represents love.
Anorexics are scared of love, hence they don't eat.
Overeaters have an insatiable need for love, so they try to fill the vacuum with food.
And bulimics crave love, but feel they don't deserve it.

Sounds, however, like you just enjoy food. Good for you--and thanks for admitting it in our squirrely society; I had to get down to 69 pounds before anyone thought that too skinny was too skinny.
Also, thanks for posting your picture. It's refreshing to have people online who are bold enough to put a thumbnail pic without being half naked or shaped like tinkerbell; I had to drop down to an anorexic weight before anyone told me I didn't have to be tiny to be attractive.
Have a great day.

[Glenna]

Sue-- Wow. I almost have nothing to say. you said it all and did so beautifully. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and your story with us.

[lesley]

I enjoyed reading your story, I knew we had things in common...I live in Springfield!! LOL, I'm a greengrocer's daughter & Baz's family had a butchers shop, so I can identify lots of things here, & it brings back so many memories, thank you for sharing...isn't the www cool!! :0)