I loved my mother dearly. She was a great woman who raised five aborigines and actually saw the four youngest make something of their lives. Yeh, I'm the one not on that list of success stories.
For all mom's good traits, there was one that she just didn't seem to ever succeed with and that was cooking.
Her mom was a classic old-country Irish cook which meant everything was important on a dinner table. I recall as a youngster, grandpa coming home from work and sitting down at the kitchen table. Grandma would pull half a steer or lamb out of the oven along with corning bowls full of mashed potatoes, cooked onions and corn. Grandpa would sit eating with a towel around his neck advising me constantly that you weren't eating if you didn't break into a sweat.
I'm not really sure if grandma was a great cook or not but I do know that no one left her house, including my friends, without feeling like beached whales that just needed to lie still for a while and let the tonnage of food pass through oneself.
Mom of course had to cook for six and later sometimes seven so she often went with the mass production system of using cookie sheets. We often would have razor thin pork chops that when cooked turned into what might have actually been the original pork jerky.
I will never forget the day dad picked up one of the overcooked chops and asked what the heck he was supposed to do with it. When he dropped it back on the plate, the plate cracked in half and everyone, even mom, laughed the rest of the way through dinner.
Mom was always a last minute food preparer and this caused a blunder as it were with a turkey one year.
I recall one Thanksgiving where I helped mom get a holiday meal ready but it didn't exactly work out the way it should have.
Mom was really sick and so it befell on the oldest child to help get dinner started while she rested a little more in bed.
She asked if I could clean the turkey and get some other things out of the cans and into their respective pots for cooking. I was happy to help but I had never paid any attention to how either grandma or mom cleaned a turkey.
I knew you had to pull all that nasty stuff out of the inside of the bird and keeping myself from upchucking on our meal, I succeeded with step one.
I then proceeded to really give the old bird a thorough washing in the kitchen sink.
Unfortunately, I thought that to get the bird really clean that dish soap was the way to go and I really frothed that bird up proudly thinking how clean this turkey was going to be when I was done.
After a thorough rinse it was time for an unknowing and sick mom to make the dressing and plop it into the bird which looked immaculate to my eyes.
The aftermath of what happened is lost to history I'm afraid. I seem to remember the turkey tasted fine but the dressing had a real funny taste to it that reminded me of those times I had a bar of soap stuck in my mouth for emulating my father's vocabulary.
Other siblings say this wasn't so and everything was fine and that they have no recollection of the entire family knocking each other over as we fought for the bathroom right after eating.
I guess this will remain one of those foggy memories that will only avail itself in little vignettes.
Did I really see foam coming out of the cooking turkey's butt? I'm not sure.
Did dad ask what the hell kind of dressing was this? Maybe not.
When the turkey was carved did little soap bubbles fill the air as the electric knife wiggled through the turkey? I like to think not.
The one moment I do recollect for certain was debating whether I should use the dish soap or the kitchen cleanser that was on the sink. I wonder if this entire tale would be more vivid to all if I had chosen the Comet Cleanser or the SOS pads.
Freelance writer, columnist, author and writing coach, ex-Chicagoan Mike Fak presently resides in Central Illinois. More information about Mike's services are available at his home website www.mikefak.com
Mike currently writes primarily humor columns for searchwarp bi-weekly and is the managing editor of www.lincolndailynews.com
Mike now offers a 26,000 word e-book on making money as a freelance writer for only $10.00 at this page. http://www.mikefak.com/id45.html
Mike, you can really put readers in the scene. I could hear the pork jerky crashing and taste that turkey soap, all the while chuckling (while reading, not while tasting those bubbles!). Most of all, what a wonderful mom and family! Thanks again. Jane
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