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Thank You, Mom
Women Fall, 1999

What I learned from My Mother

I could write pages of the things I learned from my mother...
So, here's a start.

Why is it that we women don't appreciate our mothers until we are 40 years old?

Mom was always ready to try something new. (Dad was too.)
Perhaps that's what keeps them so young.

We tried the "Fizzies".		 Remember those? Fizzies. Those large round tablets that were like sweetened and flavored alka-selzer tablets, were only available for a few years back in the 50's. They were a substitute for soda pop.
Dad was one of the first in the area to have a tractor, a milking machine, threshing machine.

Mom was the first one of all the neighbors in Richmond to have a refrigerator -- during WWII. That International Harvester refrigerator was her pride and joy. She used it for at least 25 years... and then couldn't figure out why it broke. (It's no wonder that I think things are supposed to last forever.)
 Dad says that his only regret in buying that refrigerator is that he didn't buy the freezer at the same time when the pair was offered to him.

Mom was the first in all her family to start preserving food by freezing instead of canning. We rented a drawer at the frozen food locker plant in the 1940's.

My mother will laugh at this... but the things I remember most having learned from her relate to cooking.

When I started high school and was pondering which courses to take, "Take Home Ec." Mom said. "I can't teach you to cook, and I don't have time." So I took Home Ec. However, today I cook like Mom. I really did learn to cook from my mother.

Mom taught me to substitute in recipes, use one recipe and make lots of different things.

 Mom cooked differently from other farm women. I think it was because of things she learned when she worked in the home of one of the doctors at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota.
For example, Pink Velvet was a dessert we enjoyed frequently at home. (Click on the words to see the original recipe.)

The recipe called for "strawberry gelatin". We used whatever flavor we had on hand. It called for grated lemon peel, which, when we didn't have it, we either omitted it completely or substituted orange.

Now when I don't have evaporated milk on hand, I used equal parts of powdered milk and ice-cold water.		 Some of the different things Mom used -- Junket Renet tablets, she used Bisquick, and olive oil, and Crisco instead of lard to make pie crust, and many others that I remember.

From my mother I learned to think, yes, to THINK when I was cooking. She would taste while she cooked. And I was a perpetual questioner, "Mom, why did you add onion to the goulash?"

"When something doesn't taste like you want it," she said, "you have to think about what you could add to make it taste better."

So, I was always right behind her tasting along with her, "Mom, give me a taste." She was thinking all the time. 		In Home Ec. class we blindly followed recipes. If we didn't have what the recipe called for, we went to the store and bought it. Thus, if it didn't turn out, it was the recipe's fault, not ours.

"That's not cooking," Mom said, "Anybody can cook that way."
I guess I'd say that Mom was a creative cook.

There were 10 of us children, but only 9 at home at any one time since my youngest brother was born two weeks after I left home. That's 33 meals a day, every day -- not to mention all the snacks and lunches.
 It's no wonder that my mother welcomed the opportunity to have one of us cook something at home that we learned in Home Ec class.
Cutting corners was a way of life in Mom's kitchen. She always found an easier way to do things.
We were encouraged to cook or bake anytime. We didn't need to worry about something not "turning out" since by the time 11 people tasted it, it was gone anyway.

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 First mix the chocolate chip cookies, then peanut butter cookies, and lastly the ginger snaps in the same bowl.
 Save on washing dishes.

We learned the math for doubling and tripling recipes since one batch of anything didn't go very far.
 Cookie recipes were always doubled.

The garden always included a sizeable rhubarb patch and we ate it all year long. Mom had a quick way to wash and cut the stalks. Mom used a wet cloth to wipe them. Then she took a handfull of stalks, put them on the cutting board, and cut them in 1/2" pieces, all at once.
 Other ladies we visited would put the stalks in the sink-full of water to wash, then dry with a towel, and finally cut them, one by one.

Mom chopped walnuts the same way. She'd pour out whatever she wanted chopped onto the cutting board. Then she'd take her large butcher knife, put it sharp edge down and hold the tip onto the cutting board with the palm of her left hand. Now with her right hand moving up and down she would pivot the knife around on the cutting board around the tip being held down with the palm of her left hand.
Cutting one piece of walnut at a time against your thumb is time consuming and sometimes dangerous.

We might say that Mom invented the first food processor.

If Mom wanted something from the store, she would need to dress 3 children to take with her. It was much easier to substitue in recipes. Just because a recipe called for a particular item didn't mean it was important. Mom taught us what was important and what could be omitted from a recipe.
 We learned that we could not substitute baking powder for soda in a recipe for cake. We learned what were the basics needed to make bread, cake, cookies, meatloaf, swiss steak, baked beans, stew.

A story is in order here. Mom was always ready to try something that would make the work easier.

We often made homemade ice cream at home. This particular Saturday, we were busy turning the crank by hand.

"Dad," (Mom called Dad, "Dad" so us kids would call him "Dad"). "Dad," she said. "Didn't we just buy an electric drill?"

"I'll bet the top of the ice cream maker would fit it." she continued.

"I'll bet you could use the drill to beat the ice cream."

And she added "That would be easier than turning the crank by hand."

So, Dad gets the electric drill. Sure enough it fits the top of the ice cream maker. He plugs in the drill and turns it on. Now, this was back in the early 50's, and it was not a variable speed drill.

The beater went so fast that the top flew off the cannister, and the liquid ice cream flew out!! All over the kitchen and there was one of Mom's pet peeves, a mess to be cleaned up.

These are just a few of the things that came to mind when my sister Jeanette asked me to write something I remember from home.
As you can see, I have a lot to thank my mother for teaching me. Thank you, Mom! I love you.

Next issue: "Thank You, Dad"

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