My mom was an absolutely wonderful person. If she had been Catholic, I'm sure she would have been made a Saint years ago. The only blemish on her resume might be her cooking skills. (Do Saints have to cook or are they assigned a personal chef?)
This photo in the newspaper today pointed out that casseroles are making a comeback. I'm still traumatized by the "casseroles" my mom tried to feed me when I was a kid. I still have to approach casseroles like a dog sniffing something new in his food bowl before he actually tastes it.
Anything mom tried to cook never seemed to be able to hold its shape on the plate. Everything seemed to just run together into a giant glob. She tried to cover herself by calling it a "casserole". I always thought "casserole" was just a French word for "glob".
Back in the day all her casseroles had two main ingredients: Cream of Mushroom soup and soggy green beans. To this day when K gives me a grocery list and it mentions Cream of Mushroom soup, I recoil. And green beans still cause me to cringe, too.
Chunky, tasteless tuna was also a common ingredient. And that crusty stuff on top?....I think it's supposed to be crispy bread crumbs or something, right? Mom's tasted like slightly charred sawdust.
Mom didn't like to cook and didn't want to learn. (I'm not talking behind her back. She laughed about her lack of culinary skills, too.) The highlight of her day was when my dad would come home from work and ask her / us, "Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?"
She did manage to hit a home run with her spaghetti meat sauce, and she could slice a mean tomato. Oh, and she made her own barbecue sauce. It was so good the little hometown newspaper did a story about it / her.
K is an excellent cook. She's served up a casserole or two, and despite my original trepidation, they were actually very good. Maybe time does heal all wounds. :)
Love you mom. :)