That sounds yummy (and we always have chicken, thanks to me, and rice, thanks to CP). Must try that sometime...
Veggies, well. For starters, I never got to be a kitchen-commandant myself; I was always under the command of a grandmother, my mother, or my father. So I really don't know how we ended up with that many dishes. But I do know that a fair number of them were made ahead of time. Pickling was frequently involved, or near-pickling, like three-bean salad, a perennial favorite. Plenty of other things are cold, but not pickled, like Waldorf salad, I think it is, and of course there's potato salad (but that actually wasn't that common). Squash was often cooked ahead of time and set out in a bowl as a cold, if cooked, dish. Baking, well, a lot of dishes bake at generally the same or near-same temperatures -- like sweet potatoes with raisins, and stuffing, and whatever else. I just recall that when the oven didn't have a turkey or ham, it usually had at least five dishes of various things. Plus all four eyes on the stove were going full-blast, if we were at my paternal grandparents, that is (if it wasn't pickled, they boiled it, sheesh, until it was merely a limp memory of its once-veggie self).
My father's parents had a huge garden, and canned an incredible amount every year (remnants of the Great Depression, I suspect, to never have an empty pantry again). During the summer, this meant day-before was spent picking vegetables til our fingers fell off (what else are grandkids for?) and wintertime, you just went across the way to the cold storage and brought back an armful of mason jars.
My mother's parents didn't have a garden, but my grandmother effectively cooked similar things -- she just used either canned goods, or things that had been canned and given to her. (She did do some canning, but mostly of figs, and not in such huge quantities.)
Honestly, I don't know how my parents managed it. From the sounds coming from the kitchen, it seemed like it was always a very close call as to whether we'd have just two salads, some bread, and a turkey... and sometimes even the turkey seemed in danger. Like the year my still-young sister turned the oven off while fiddling with the knobs. Two hours later... OH NOES.
I think the phrase we're looking for is "controlled chaos".
no subject
Date: 14 Apr 2011 06:48 am (UTC)Veggies, well. For starters, I never got to be a kitchen-commandant myself; I was always under the command of a grandmother, my mother, or my father. So I really don't know how we ended up with that many dishes. But I do know that a fair number of them were made ahead of time. Pickling was frequently involved, or near-pickling, like three-bean salad, a perennial favorite. Plenty of other things are cold, but not pickled, like Waldorf salad, I think it is, and of course there's potato salad (but that actually wasn't that common). Squash was often cooked ahead of time and set out in a bowl as a cold, if cooked, dish. Baking, well, a lot of dishes bake at generally the same or near-same temperatures -- like sweet potatoes with raisins, and stuffing, and whatever else. I just recall that when the oven didn't have a turkey or ham, it usually had at least five dishes of various things. Plus all four eyes on the stove were going full-blast, if we were at my paternal grandparents, that is (if it wasn't pickled, they boiled it, sheesh, until it was merely a limp memory of its once-veggie self).
My father's parents had a huge garden, and canned an incredible amount every year (remnants of the Great Depression, I suspect, to never have an empty pantry again). During the summer, this meant day-before was spent picking vegetables til our fingers fell off (what else are grandkids for?) and wintertime, you just went across the way to the cold storage and brought back an armful of mason jars.
My mother's parents didn't have a garden, but my grandmother effectively cooked similar things -- she just used either canned goods, or things that had been canned and given to her. (She did do some canning, but mostly of figs, and not in such huge quantities.)
Honestly, I don't know how my parents managed it. From the sounds coming from the kitchen, it seemed like it was always a very close call as to whether we'd have just two salads, some bread, and a turkey... and sometimes even the turkey seemed in danger. Like the year my still-young sister turned the oven off while fiddling with the knobs. Two hours later... OH NOES.
I think the phrase we're looking for is "controlled chaos".