Robert had
an intense dislike for rolled oats, which his mother often served for
breakfast. He despised the texture, and he found the taste repulsive. He was
forced to choke down many a bowl filled to the brim with the disgusting stuff.
Cream of wheat was almost as bad, but he could swallow it with less trouble.
During the year when he was in Mrs. Hail’s class, Ida began to give up the
fight for rolled oats and occasionally set a Kellogg’s Variety Pack in the
center of the table.
Robert felt
a huge relief! Even if his brother took the best cereals (Sugar Smacks, Sugar
Pops, Raisin Bran, or Rice Krispies), Robert could easily eat Sugar Frosted
Flakes or Special K. Robert found Corn Flakes marginally acceptable. OKs were—well—OK!
On the
happy mornings when the Variety Pack made its appearance on the breakfast
table, Robert emptied the cereal into a china bowl, put two heaping teaspoons
of sugar on top, and poured the fresh milk straight from the cow around the
mound of sugar. He was fascinated to watch the milk soak into the sugar,
transforming it from white granules to gray layers that gradually slipped below
the creamy surface. He spooned the cereal carefully, so that, by the end, the
bottom of the bowl would have a thick layer of sugar that he could spoon out
with the last of the milk. Kellogg’s had been offering variety packs as long as
Robert had been alive, but Ida did not yield to their convenience until Robert
was in school.
Jell-O was
a different story. Ida had fallen fast for the convenience of Jell-O dishes,
and she was quick to use all the recipes in the women’s magazines. Jell-O (a
mixture of gelatin, fruit flavors, and sugar) was served at almost every dinner
and every supper.
Orange
Jell-O packed full of shredded carrots and chopped raisins was a popular item
on Ida’s menu. Lime Jell-O featuring crunchy chunks of celery was another.
Robert greatly preferred fruit in his Jell-O. Black cherry Jell-O harboring
large bing cherries was one of Robert’s favorites. Then came lime Jell-O with
crushed pineapple and heavy cream mixed together on a bed of crumbled graham
crackers and topped with a layer of whipped heavy cream and chopped walnuts.
The latter dish became a staple.
On special
occasions, Ida made a mold of a fruity Jell-O with mandarin orange slices. A
topping of whipped cream was available for most of the Jell-O dishes made with
fruit.
Ida bowed
to convenience when it came to international cuisine, too. Italian food was
Chef Boyardee from cans. Asian food was LaChoy’s Chop Suey Vegetables with
chunks of pork added and with the dish poured over LaChoy Chow Mein Noodles. Mexican
food was Van Camp’s Tamales with Sauce (also from a can). Ever since the Korean
War, Ida had witnessed a time of a burgeoning variety of foods and ever-greater
convenience—a convenience that she embraced enthusiastically (sooner or later).
Even though
Ida was a skilled baker, she enjoyed buying doughnuts and bread from Graves
Bakery on the State Street hill near Purdue University in West Lafayette. Almost
every week, she successfully made the turn from State Street, across the
oncoming traffic, over the gravelly hump just beyond the sidewalk, and down
into the parking lot, where she moved her foot back and forth from the brake to
the gas pedal to the brake and to the gas pedal until she felt the car was
parked well enough. Once Robert’s nearly carsick vision had cleared, he waited
in the Chevrolet Bel Air while Ida gained the sidewalk and hurried out of view
toward the front door of the bakery. Robert looked up in fascination at the
large billboard on the side of the building.
Regularly,
the billboard changed, but it always announced the delights of baked goods from
Graves Bakery and it always included a painting, usually a child with rosy
cheeks and an endearing smile who was enjoying a jelly-filled doughnut or
similar sugary treat. The painting on the huge poster always exhibited a heartwarming
realism reminiscent of Norman Rockwell’s work but lacking a complete background
so that the words could be prominently displayed against a plain backdrop.
Robert studied the colors and the ways the artist fashioned the facial
features, the clothing, the hands, the light, and the shadows.
Soon
enough, Ida returned with two big bags of doughnuts and sweet rolls.
“They had a
sale on cinnamon twists, and I bought extras,” Ida said with evident glee, as
she carefully placed the white paper sacks in the back seat.
The bakery
items usually were devoured before the next week’s trip to West Lafayette, but,
when they were gone, Ida might make cinnamon toast for breakfast.
After many
glum mornings staring down a bowl of rolled oats, Robert was ready to dance a jig
whenever he awoke to the fragrance of cinnamon toast. Ida mixed butter, sugar,
and cinnamon and lightly toasted it on slices of bread that were spread on a
cookie sheet and placed in the oven. The satisfying crunch when he bit into the
caramelized sugar was only part of the pleasure of eating his mother’s cinnamon
toast. The sugar coating would flake slightly to reveal the hot buttery toast
beneath. On especially fortunate mornings, Ida served mugs of hot cocoa.
Dipping half a slice of plain buttered toast in hot chocolate was a delicious
experience, but dipping half a slice of cinnamon toast in cocoa would make anyone
over the moon!
Yes, Ida
could bake cookies with the best of them, and her persimmon pudding was out of
this world. Her forte, though, was pie. Robert could not remember a time when
there was no pie cooling beside the meat grinder attached to the enameled
counter of the Hoosier. Apple, peach, banana cream, cherry, blackberry, sugar
cream, pumpkin, lemon meringue, chocolate, mince (but not made with meat),
rhubarb, gooseberry, and even mulberry (on rare occasions) were only a few of
the pies that came hot and mouth-watering from Ida’s oven. Almost every dinner
was fortified with a generous slice of pie for dessert. It seemed she never
missed! Ida’s pies never failed!
In addition
to being baked in a pie, rhubarb took several delightful turns toward the
dessert side of the dinner plates: rhubarb cobbler (sometimes mixed with
strawberries), rhubarb coffee cake, rhubarb sauce (sometimes mixed with
cherries) for ice cream, rhubarb crunches, and rhubarb crisps.
Ida’s
gooseberry shortcake stole the show.
Quite
often, Ida brought her brown cups of custard hot from the oven. Using a rasp,
she grated nutmeg on top of each. Sometimes, the custard cups were filled with
butterscotch pudding, chocolate pudding, or vanilla pudding.
Cakes were
plentiful, too. Ida, Aunt Margaret, and Grandma Rhode all made delectable
German chocolate cakes. Robert’s favorite birthday cake was a white layer cake
with pink peppermint icing, but black walnut cake was also high on his list.
With the
butter and cream that were fresh from Joe’s Holstein cows and with lard that
was truly lard and with flour that knew how to behave, the baked goods that
flowed from Ida’s oven were delicious beyond anyone’s powers of description.
They more than compensated for the rolled oats and the cream of wheat that Robert
had to consume at the start of the day now and then.
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ReplyDeleteOur mothers were so much alike, except mine did not have mastery of any baking skills!
DeleteMy mother made pumpkin pie with real whipped cream that my sister and I somehow justified for breakfast since it was full of eggs, milk and pumpkin. I loved your mother’s homemade yeast rolls and I’m going to try to make them. Robert this chapter has made me so hungry!
ReplyDeleteI agree that pumpkin pie and real whipped cream could be a breakfast!
DeleteI had almost forgotten gooseberry pies! Thank you for bringing back wonderful memories, Robert.
ReplyDeleteEleanor and Sallie, your comments have revived many nearly forgotten chapters of childhood! Thank you!
ReplyDelete