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One Pitcher, A Thousand Memories
Do you remember Kool-Aid summers? One sip of that bright, sugary goodness can take me right back to childhood—long afternoons outside, bare feet in the grass, and a neighborhood full of kids who always seemed to magically show up the second a fresh pitcher was mixed. How about the pitcher when frosty a face would be drawn on it. It just made it feel like a refreshment that couldn’t be beat.
I still remember the crinkle of the packet, the way the colors swirled like magic, and how our tongues stayed red or purple for hours. Cherry, Grape, Tropical Punch… everyone had their flavor.
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Kool-Aid Dreams, Sugar-Free Reality
Growing up, our kitchen was basically a shrine to non-sugary food. Cereal came in shades of brown and tan, full of twigs, nuts, and the promise of “regularity.” The sugar cereals—the bright, cartoon-covered boxes that called to every kid on Saturday mornings—were strictly forbidden. I swear, if it didn’t say bran somewhere on the box, it didn’t make it past the pantry door.The same rules applied to drinks. Kool-Aid was a four-letter word. Sugar was the enemy, and my mom was the general leading the war against it. While other kids stirred neon-red powder into their water and shouted “Oh yeah!” like the Kool-Aid Man himself, we were mixing up Crystal Light—because apparently, if it was sugar-free, it was “just as good.”
It wasn’t.
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Kool-Aid on The Rocks
When I was a kid, my mom wasn’t a fan of Kool-Aid. She thought it was nothing but sugar and dye, a shortcut to bad teeth and hyper kids. If we asked for something sweet, she’d say, “There’s always water,” like it was the treat of the century. Every once in a while, though, a few packets of Kool-Aid would sneak into the cupboard, and that felt like rebellion in powder form.I didn’t really fall for Kool-Aid until my mid-teens. Spencer, my boyfriend back then, and I would whip up a pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid and make grilled cheese sandwiches. We’d pour our bright red drinks into glasses, carry everything out to the picnic table in the backyard, and giggle like we were getting away with something.
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Dining with Dogs
When I was a kid and living at home, evening meals held in a formal dining room were the norm. Things have changed drastically, wherein formal dining rooms are a thing of the past. Everyone seems to prefer an informal way of living, such as eating at counters, in front of the TV, and in the car on the way to an event. My mom would set the table with a cloth tablecloth, breakable dishes versus plastic, matching silverware, and to top everything off, we ate by candlelight. This didn’t seem odd, and we enjoyed engaging in discussions of our days and events. -
Candlelight & Chicken Nuggets
Ah, family dinners. That magical time of day when everyone was supposed to gather around the table, hold hands, and share stories while eating a well-balanced, home-cooked meal.Yeah… that never happened.
When my kids were little, I tried. Really, I did. I dreamt of Norman Rockwell moments. But instead, dinner became a nightly episode of “Who Hates What?”
One kid didn’t like vegetables. Another refused to eat meat. At one point, the boys would only eat broccoli and cauliflower if they were doused in ketchup, which is a crime against both vegetables and condiments. If I served fish, someone cried. If I made meatloaf, someone gagged. Chicken nuggets were the only universally accepted food group.
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Love was Served Nightly
For as long as I can remember, our family sat down to a family dinner every night. Even when we worked after school, we still managed to sit down together for our evening meal. Dad was a route salesman back then, and he would still be home every night. He had to make the post office mail deadline for his daily orders, so we ate after this task was completed. -
TV Dinners and Tiny Toasts
Family dinner has always been more of an idea I admired than a daily ritual I mastered. Growing up, we did eat together—just not quite like the storybook versions my mom would recount.
As a kid, we gathered around the kitchen table in our designated spots. I sat by the dishwasher, Michelle claimed the corner by the windows, Dad parked himself by the door, and Mom sat with her back to the TV… the TV that was on. We always ate later in the evening, so we watched our shows—around her. Mom was not amused. She’d try to make conversation, valiantly attempting to ignore the laugh track behind her, but she didn’t have much success. -
Hockey Puck Chicken
I have never considered myself a fabulous cook. I am one of those people who doesn’t read directions or recipes. I like to cook things that don’t require a lot of preparation. I believe quick and easy and, of course, delicious meals are what I make. I have previously stated that when it comes to preparing a meal out of necessity it is just plainly no fun, or there is no sense of accomplishment. I feel pills are in order on those occasions. Let’s face it, you purchase the items, put the food away, prepare the meal, then when everyone is done within ten minutes, you have to clean up the mess. I do love to go to eat and let someone else do the cooking. -
Root Soup Surprise
As I’ve written, I love eating and making soup. I rarely use a recipe. My soups usually begin with a veggie base of some kind and develop from there. All goes well, usually…except for this one time when I decided to make
“root soup”.Now I have no memory of where this idea came from but it is a creamy soup with a base of leftover mashed potatoes. I added chicken stock, cream, salt, and pepper. Then it was time for the other roots. I cleaned and cut up garlic, onion, carrots, turnips, parsnips, and a beet.
Sounds pretty good, right?
Not so much.
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Unexpected Vegetables
I feel lucky that I haven’t had a “worst cooking experience”. That is, of course, in my opinion. My family tells me that one thing my late husband prepared blew everyone’s mind. He had a salad he served between courses that was to serve as a ”palette cleanser”. It consisted of 3 scoops of lime sherbet, garnished with green pepper and salad tomatoes. He would normally serve it between two courses that had very distinct flavors like a strong flavored appetizer followed by a mild flavored beef dish. -
Funky Cheese Enchiladas
Every night was a struggle to find something to make for the kids that everyone would eat and enjoy. Between 2 young boys, my husband, and myself, we all had varying tastes. For example – the boys would only eat vegetables if they came with ketchup, I don’t eat vegetables at all and one boy wouldn’t eat “sweet” meat. -
Evolution of Breakfast
“Eat breakfast like a king,lunch like a prince,
dinner like a pauper.”
This was the saying many years ago when I was struggling with my weight. I would eat a big breakfast and feel sluggish and drowsy for much of the morning. Was it the quality of the food? Was it the content of carbs versus protein? Was it the sugar, fat, salt…?
I’m not sure. Probably yes, yes, and…yes…
When I taught, I often skipped breakfast and had a snack around 9:30 with the students in my class. Although I sent home a letter with a dozen suggestions for “healthy” treats, the most common items were brownies, rice crispy treats, granola bars, cheese cheese-flavored crackers…it makes me tired just writing this.
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Slippery Frosting
On September 22, 2004, Grandma Is passed away and our family was forever changed. She was the one to make the holiday cookies and candy. She was the one that made the special bean and ham soup. She was the one that made Mom’s birthday schaum tortes. She was the one that made Lisa’s birthday cake and slippery frosting. -
Passing the Baton
Cooking and I have been through several evolutions. I left home at 18 as a young, married woman. I could cook (sort of) thanks to my brief Home Economics class in High School. Cookbooks were my friends because, at the time, a long-distance phone call cost money. That meant I couldn’t afford the luxury of calling mom for instructions. -
A Cake Made with Love
In our family, we try to make birthdays somewhat special. Usually, a cake or a favorite dessert is made for the birthday person. The first year that I was married my husband, Art, made me a birthday cake. Now, he is not a cook or a baker so this was a very special effort on his part.
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The Office
When the Realtor showed my sister and me through our house, there were several things that caught my eye. I loved the black kitchen cabinets, the laundry room on the main floor, and the cozy dining area with great views of the backyard. -
Meal Prep to the Rescue
My family doesn’t have a “favorite meal” because we have too many different tastes to contend with. When the kids were younger, this contributed to my dislike of cooking. I already hated it, but it became amplified as a parent. -
A Civilized Family Meal
My husband was a great cook. OK, I know I’ve said this multiple times. I bring this up because I don’t remember a bad meal that he ever prepared.To identify a favorite family meal, I’ll tell you about a meal that Michael didn’t cook and all three of us enjoyed immensely.
It was a warm, comfortable evening in Louisville, Colorado. Michael, our son Matt and I came together after we were done with work. We had been given a gift for dinner at the Melting Pot Restaurant. Matt had never been to a Melting Pot and didn’t know what to expect.
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Expensive Taste
Reflecting on what my favorite family meal Is actually makes my mouth water. Well, since I don’t love or even like the preparation of any kind of meal I like to go out to eat. And when I go out to eat I love to consume lobster. Because of the cost, it certainly cannot be considered a family meal. Call me selfish, but even though I love lobster, not everyone in my family feels the same. It’s always better to dine with friends so as not to look to my family like I am overindulging!! -
Don’t Mess With the Original
I know that back in the day, kids would go from house to house Trick-or-Treating with a pillowcase to collect candy–not even necessarily wearing costumes. Halloween, as we know it today, began in the 1930s with children receiving homemade cookies and pieces of cake, fruit, nuts, coins, and small toys.
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Cajun Cheese Soup
I’m not a big fan of spicy things, so I was hesitant to try this Cajun Cheese soup when I first encountered it, but it quickly became a favorite of mine and now of the entire family! -
Creamed Chicken
My mom made the most fabulous chicken recipe. Unfortunately, after she passed it seems to have gone with her. I would ask for this delicacy often and found it to be absolutely delicious. It was what she called creamy chicken. Not such an original name, but it was incredible tasting. It was, of course, with chicken cut up not in small pieces, she used condensed milk and the drippings from the chicken. This is what Legacy writing is all about. See I might have had this recipe had I had the opportunity to ask her about this and have it in writing. This is all I really can tell of this recipe. I have searched in her recipe box and it just has not shown up. Once when I was pregnant with my first child I actually had three helpings of this delicacy. That was the last time I had the luxury of this dish. After that, she tried to use substitutes like chicken soup or whatever, but it just wasn’t the same. I am still searching. -
Chile Relleno Casserole
Mexican Food is one of my favorites. I’m not sure if this recipe qualifies as traditional Mexican Cuisine but in my opinion, it’s a delicious side dish with any meal. The hardest part for me is finding the whole poblano peppers to use as the basis of the casserole. I have substituted diced chiles however my favorite is still the whole poblano peppers. -
Rhubarb Custard Pie
When It was summer, I was the one responsible for mowing grandma Is’ lawn. In the backyard, I would make slow careful circles around her peonies and rhubarb patch.
The peonies would bloom and later be held up with a circular piece of chicken wire through the summer. The rhubarb grew unrestricted. Leaves were generously pulled–never cut–from the plant. I would pull and single stalk and suck on the puckeringly tart end as I sat on the hard dry ground under the weeping willow. The cicadas song sounded like the power lines vibrating. I loved the late afternoon when the cooing of morning doves was accompanied by other lawn mowers humming from distant yards.Grandma would bring in an armload of the big-leafed stalks to make her rhubarb custard pie.
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There’s a Man in my Kitchen!
My favorite food memories have happened in the last thirty-five years. Coincidentally my husband and I have been married for thirty-five years.I think I realized that he was the real deal when I learned that he loved to cook. His cooking is his art. Nothing is too hard or off the table of possibilities.
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I Hate Tuna!
I have a serious aversion to canned tuna! The smell, the texture, the presentation… All of it grosses me out. When I was younger, mom would make these tuna burgers that many people will say, sound delicious. I will have to strongly disagree! Even the thought of it makes me want to gag. -
Who Could Possibly Eat Liver?
When I lived at home I was subjected to the most interesting meals. You see, my dad was at one time a meat salesman. He would bring home items of meat (I think they could be classified as meat) and my mom would create a meal out of them.
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Comfort Foods
As a child, I spent my days with my Grandma Is. She took care of me while my mom worked. We would play cards. She read the “Daily Citizen” newspaper from beginning to end and painted her fingernails her favorite bright red color.
Summer days followed a familiar routine. The tv was never turned on (it was only re-runs anyway). I played with neighborhood kids or worked on my coloring books. The best part of the day was lunch…my favorite.
We’d go into the kitchen together, she’d set a small pot to boil on the stove. While it got hot, she sliced 4 pieces of summer sausage and laid out 3 sweet bread and butter pickles in a shallow bowl. Once the water was boiling, she would carefully and precisely measure exactly one cup of noodles. I would cajole her to make a heaping cup…so she would compromise by adding a pinch more noodles.
Once the noodles were done, she’d dump out the water and add butter and salt before adding them to my bowl. A glass of milk in a pastel metal drinking glass completed the meal.
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Cooking is a Waste of Time
I dislike cooking. I find cooking, on average, a waste of time. First of all, you have to decide what to make, then you have to go to the store. Another thing I dislike to do and purchase the ingredients Then you spend hours making your delicacy, it takes ten minutes to eat it, and then, guess what, you get to clean the mess up. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy cooking when the house is clean and everything is done, and I am cooking for a get-together of family and/or friends. The key here, everything else needs to be done. -
Honey… What’s Cooking??
I have a confession to make. I don’t cook very often. My husband was raised in the restaurant business and started scraping gum off the bottom of tables with a putty knife when he was too little to remember. One thing led to another and he started food preparation when he was very young. Being around food and people who cooked well caught on with him.
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I F**king Hate Cooking
I hate cooking. My kids have always been impossible to cook for. But before I get into that – maybe I should explain where I think my dislike of cooking came from.
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Soups, Casseroles, etc – Cooking Is Love To Me
In my mind, cooking equals love. The thinking goes this way…
If I love you, I take care of you.
If I take care of you, I want you to be healthy.
If I want you to be healthy, I want you to eat good food.
If I want you to eat good food, I have to cook.
If I cook, then you won’t get processed or fast food.
If you don’t get processed or fast food, you will be healthy.
If you are healthy, it means that I am doing a good job of taking care of you.
If I am taking care of you, then I love you.
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Do I Have a Favorite Drink?
What is my favorite drink?This sounds like an easy topic…not. My answer is, it depends.
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Hey! Get Me an Old Fashion!
My favorite drink: Alcoholic that is.
I guess I would have to say the this would be an “Old Fashion”. I say this because it has come to be a kind of old friend so to speak. When I came of age, (I don’t like beer) I tried what my Mom always ordered. A Bacardi. Then I thought I should be drinking what my friend liked. Manhattans.
Well, after a couple of years of being totally wiped on only one or two of those (most likely one), I realized that I didn’t really care for them. Anyway, an Old Fashion was presented to me. It had a good taste of booze, I like them rather sweet, and that is where I am at the present time. Margaritas come in second. When you are out of state you don’t even think of asking for an Old Fashion because they are made with brandy, not a staple in other states.
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Green Drink vs. Gin and Tonic
You might think that I have a touch of bipolar with this one. You see, I definitely have a morning drink and an evening drink…and these two are at the opposite end of the beverage spectrum. -
Weird Favorite Drinks
When someone asks you “What is your favorite drink?” – do you automatically think they are referring to an alcoholic drink? Well – I do, and that’s where I take pause. I’m not a big drinker. Typically people talk about coming home from work and having a drink or a beer… I come home from work and grab a glass of milk. Is that weird?
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Walk to Downshift
Stress makes me crazy. Literally. I want to sleep the second I get home from work and then when it is actually time to hit the hay…guess what, I can’t shut my brain off! It doesn’t make sense.I wish I could drink and the calm continues. But alcohol just makes my brain depressed and my body tired. Besides that, I don’t need the empty calories..and I wake up in the middle of the night..and I can’t get back to sleep…My brain is on while my body feels groggy and heavy.
So..is downshifting an art? An art that I have a very limited talent for?