It's amazing what triggers a memory when it comes to different foods.
Yesterday, Ellis, Mom and I were talking about Greek Yogurt (which Ellis despises)
"I don't understand why anyone would eat something that looks like the gunk my mom cleaned out of the cream separator. "
With those words hanging in the air I immediately pictured Florence Harshbarger,
dark hair braided and pinned in a neat circle around her head, wearing a pretty floral house dress, cheerfully going about her morning routine of washing the milker and shiny stainless steel cylinders. She had the routine down to a science. When I offered to take my turn at the job I ended up splashing water down the front of myself, forgetting to do something
and making a general mess of a chore she made look effortlessly easy.
Even longer ago than that I can picture a pixie like girl washing up the milking things.
My sisters and I crowded around the .basement sink waiting for Leah to get done with her jobs
so we could go play. If we were particularly annoying she could send us shrieking by scooping that white gunk up with her fingers acting like there was nothing gross about it.
(It honestly almost triggers a gagging sensation even now when I think about it. )
It is rather amazing that greek yogurt with granola and fruit is one of my favorite breakfasts.
Leah was very patient with us and thought up great ways to entertain her little nieces.
What adventure would she think up this time?
A hike through the pasture following the cow trails.
Teaching us how to feed sugar lumps to the horses.
"Hold your hand out flat with a sugar lump in the middle. Like this."
And Leah would stretch out her tiny hand with the sugar lump perfectly balanced.
There we were ... four little shadows copying her, bracing our feet, holding as still as possible,
trying not to squeal when we felt those velvety mouths gently brushing against our out stretched hands.
Playing in her little house under the shade of a huge oak tree.
She had a tiny canister set with real flour and sugar in them.
Swinging in the air on the rope swing, pumping higher and higher,
trying to reach the leaves of the branches with our feet.
Leah could have us laughing til our sides ached when she made up funny poems.
When we were older we played the game of Authors by the hour.
She taught us Dottie Rambo's songs while she played guitar.
This summer we've been enjoying other foods besides sugar lumps and Greek Yogurt.
How about a batch of fresh salsa?
Swedish Meatballs ready for the oven
Lefse in the making
A twist on BLT sandwiches
Lightly toast slices of sourdough bread
Layer crispy fried bacon, cheese and tomato slices on the toast
Sprinkle salt and pepper, oregano and basil on the tomato
(I skin the tomato before slicing)
Put the sandwiches under a broiler for a couple minutes
until the cheese melts and the tomato is hot
You know your own broiler...
You don't want to leave these unattended
Keep peeking in and take them out sooner than later
I did not like tomatoes when I was growing up
For the life of me I don't know why I sampled these when my friend's mom made them.
Peer Pressure ;)
I knew Esther was an amazing cook. Everything she made tasted wonderful
so I figured these sandwiches would be good.
They were. We tried them again this summer.
Same thing. Scrumpdillyicious!
Some desserts for summer