When my grandson Danny was around three and would stay overnight, the bedtime snack was never in question. We went through the game of “Do you want cereal?” Danny would reply with a long, drawn-out, “Noooo.” “Do you want ice cream?” “Noooo.” And the choices went on, until Danny would finally shout out, “Toast at Grammy’s!”
This fun ritual always reminded me of my own childhood where I spent much time at my grandmother Elizabeth’s home. My hometown was (and still is) a very small Pennsylvania town. It was so small (How small was it?!) everyone knew everyone else. Seriously. And yes, I walked to elementary school in the snow, but did so with boots on and not for miles. When I stayed at Grandma’s, the school was across the street!
My grandfather Luther died when I was eight. I don’t know how much money Grandma had coming in each month from my grandfather’s coal mining pension or Social Security, but it wasn’t much. At the time there was a low-income Federal food program that we called “Government Surplus.” Once a month Grandma picked up her allocation of free food items such peanut butter, oatmeal, a huge three pound block of cheese, dried beans, and a one pound brick of butter. Real butter. It wasn’t margarine, the low- cost alternative many people used at the time.
My oldest friend Sherry (I’m allowed to call her that because we’re the same age and we knew each other as babies) loved to stay for sleep-overs at Grandma Elizabeth’s because for breakfast we had tea and toast with real butter. We always said the phrase just like that: real butter. Still today when she and I get together we reminisce about how delicious that simple breakfast was.
That was long before anyone knew that butter contains saturated fat or that margarine is even worse for you because of those oh-so-bad-for-you trans fats. Today we have other alternatives to butter such as the “we guarantee that you won’t notice it’s not real butter” products. (Yes, I can and do notice. Yuck.) And of course, I can’t complete any discourse on butter without mentioning Julia Child who insisted we use real butter if we are to be a true cook.
So yes, for my family and me we have had real butter all these years. In moderation, naturally. I just can’t imagine offering any child toast with an olive oil and soybean derivative based goop on top. Nope. Toast at Grammy’s will always be spread with real butter.
To my readers: What is your favorite childhood memory that has a connection to food?
My childhood connection to food as a child growing up was Ham.” My mother never made me a Peanut Butter. & Jelly Sandwich but it was served at lunch just about every day in school. I tried it but didn’t like it. I could eat them by themselves but not together. Everyday.my mother made me a ham sandwich without crust during my elementary school days and I would still have them in JHS & HS. .I found a Deli that would make it very thick full of meat & I would take the. crust off of the bread. As the years went by i was a little tired of eating it and just the mention of it would make me sick. I remember when my mother was sick & I went to CA to see and take care of her. I asked what she wanted for lunch. She wanted a thick deli ham sandwich. After all tbexe years she was still eating them. Anytime I eat (sometimes I do get a taste for it) or see ham, it is a reminder of my childhood days. Love you Mom and thank you for the memory, it makes me smile.
It is funny that Romaine and I have a story about “crusts.” I spent many lunch times at my Grandma Shingler’s (one of many grandchildren that she spoiled). Lunch usually consisted of soup and a sandwich or sometimes just buttered bread. I did not like the crust on my bread, so Grandma always cut it off. However, when I was at my own home, (one of six childen), you didn’t waste the crust on your bread. I would tear the crust off my bread when I thought nobody was watching and tuck it underneath my plate. I guess I thought nobody would notice the crust when they picked up the plate.
Anyway, I seem to have followed in my Grandma Shingler’s steps – cooking or baking favorite dishes for my grandchildren.