Food and Beverages

With all the craziness in the world, I find myself working extra hours, even extra days. Today, I went into work a couple of hours before the store had to open to complete a merchandising project in peace and quiet. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy working with the majority of the customers, but when I have a project to complete, I don’t even turn on the store lights if not needed, no music, just the buzz of cars whizzing by and I am in, the zone. I am a grocery girl through and through. I have expanded my horizons to include supplements as well, but food service runs through my veins, always has and most likely, always will.

My father’s mother actually ran the cafeteria of the Chicago Art Institute back in the day, way back in the day, I believe it was the 1930’s. His grandmother had a grocery store in Joliet at least through the 1950’s and his Uncle Frank had a bar. Food and beverage services are in my DNA. My father couldn’t cook an egg to save his life, but my mom was a pretty good cook in her own right. She didn’t work outside the home after marriage, but before she tied the knot she worked at the local movie theater making popcorn. Mom taught me how to make it using a pot with a lid, oil and popcorn kernels, no fancy contraptions. I’ve please many a boy scout troop or TV watcher with the popping skills she taught me so many years ago.

Mom wasn’t a fancy cook, but we always ate well. She was born left handed and back then, that meant she was possessed by the devil so she was forced to write with her right. Needless to say, her handwritten recipes are very challenging to follow, but I have only ever used a handful of them at best. Mom never taught me how to cook, I was only allowed to watch. However, unbeknownst to me, I learned that I could duplicate her recipes after her passing by remembering what I had seen her do all those years. When my mother passed away, I was 21 years old and didn’t even know how to cook an egg. I found a Pillsbury cookbook in her piles of books, notes and clippings and it became my bible. It goes from making a pot of coffee to chicken kiev and everything in between. The pages are stained, tattered and some stuck together, but it is still my first reference when I need some cooking guidance.

I have always been enchanted by grocery stores. I had mad crushes on my brother’s friends who worked with him at the National grocery chain in town. That may have begun my enchantment, but it went way beyond being boy crazy and has stayed with me my entire life. Exploring a new grocery store, especially an ethnic one fascinates me. The different varieties of produce, meats and dry goods send me on flights of fancy as to what I might be able to create with these different ingredients. Just thinking about how other people have used them to provide their families with nutritious meals for generations makes me verklempt.

Some of my best memories of being with my mom were our shopping sprees at Nipple’s Grocery Store (no, I did not make up that name). I remember looking through the glass panes of the display case of different cuts of meat that included beef’s tongue and brains, something my mom used to eat with scrambled eggs for breakfast as a kid. There were cellophane bags of Kluski noodles that would be the crowning touch of her homemade chicken soup. If I was good, maybe I’d get a sweet treat like a kolaczki or a Maurice Lenell Pinwheel cookie, but even getting some change to retrieve a gumball or sweet tarts from the dispensers at the front of the store would be worth behaving for.

Food and yes those delightfully sinful beverages are what makes the world go round and round. I have enjoyed watching cooking shows for as long as I can remember. It all started with Julia Child and the Cajun Chef, but when we finally got cable TV, the boys and I discovered Alton Brown. My one friend has made the comment that he is somehow the father of my children and I just don’t remember, we love him that much. He teaches about the science behind cooking in a very fun fashion which presented bonding moments for my kids and I. Although Alton is my favorite, I recently saw a new series called Ugly Delicious, a food documentary that spoke about family cooking traditions. It talked about how food is love, family, history and memories. . Sharing the rituals of an annual holiday meal, the raising of a glass in honor of a shared thought, a feeling, or a memory are all apart of the human experience and should be treasured.

I remember bringing home the groceries when my kids were in school and their visiting friends would help us bring them in from the car. I would tell my sons, “I brought you home something special, you’re favorite.” and a friend would remark, “My mom never brings me home something special.” How sad is that. Maybe a big part of my weight issues stem from my love and fascination with food and beverages, all the history and memories they hold for me, but I wouldn’t want to live in a world where that was not the case. Too many times we eat on the go or in separate rooms and miss the opportunity to share the experience of making memories and savoring the flavor of the moment.

When I make a pot roast or any time consuming meal for my family, I feel my mother’s presence in one of her homemade aprons and giving me a nod of pride. When the house is filled with the aroma of soups and cakes, I can hear my father telling me that I’m a good cooker. When my sons eye my Kitchen Aid mixer and Henkel Chef’s knife I own with pride, I tell them they can fight over those after I pass, but I am so excited that they understand their value. And when I sit in front of my fake wood burning stove space heater with a glass of wine, memorized by the semi-realistic flames I think of the dear friends I have had the pleasure of sharing a bottle of wine with over an excellent meal filled with memories, love and laughter that will forever remain in my heart.

Consuming food is a necessity for survival, but the types of food, the stories and history behind each mouthful, the memories an aroma can bring about, that my friend is love. In these troubling times, how wonderful it is that we are able to spend time with loved ones and share a moment, a meal and raise a glass to the making of a new memory. Bon Appetit!