One month in Greeneville. For the most part I have conformed to Mamaw's cooking model. I have cooked more meat in the last month that I have cooked in the past four years! Pork chops are my preferred contribution. They are easy to cook--I marinade them in something and then pan fry them. They fit perfectly in Mamaw's dinner routine, which consists of "a bit of" at least four or five different items. A bit of green beans, half of a corn cob, "just a dab" of fried okra, a slice of tomato, half a pork chop, and a bit of sour dough bread. This dinner model is completely contrary to they way my fiance and I eat. We eat "bowl foods;" you know, dinners that fit nicely AND beautifully in one bowl. For example: stir fry, curried vegis and rice, burrito bowls, and pasta dishes. Maybe we are lazy. Maybe the lack of a dishwasher has altered our dining habits to include the fewest possible eating utensils--though my fiance will point out that I use just about every pan in the kitchen to cook. So, the dishwasher may be off the hook. Most likely, our vegetarian habits have led us to subvert the traditional dining paradigm in the United States (particularly the midwestern states)--the meat:starch:starch or vegetable ratio--freeing us from the confines of the pie chart plating scheme.
I digress. The point is, I have not been doing too much experimentation with Mamaw's culinary habits since I got here. I have merely conformed to the prevailing tradition, adding my labor (and an occasional marinade) here and there.
However, about two weeks ago I cooked something different. We had tomatoes, too many tomatoes. One of my favorite parts about this area of the world is the number of vegetable gardens per capita. I do not know the actual statistics, and I suspect no one has actually calculated them, but lots of people have gardens here. Big gardens. People grow too much and are forced to share their goods. Thus, on a weekly basis Mamaw and I get about 6 or 7 tomatoes, at least one bell pepper, cucumbers, squash, and whatever else is coming into season. Let me tell you, two ladies who require daily medication for their acidic stomachs cannot eat that many tomatoes every week. Weeks passed and the tomatoes began to pile up. So, I decided to buy some basil and some garlic and make
my simple, yet delicious tomato sauce.
I like my tomato sauce. My fiance likes my tomato sauce. Pardon me as I toot my own horn, but it is darn good. With fresh summer tomatoes, sweet basil, and garlic, you just can't miss!
Mamaw didn't like it. She said it was undercooked. This made me sad. I like to cook because I like to make people happy. This also made me a bit indignant. My tomato sauce is good, dammit! Yes there are some larger pieces of onion and small pieces of garlic that make it a bit chunky, but nothing is crunchy. AND, those pieces would be much less noticeable if I didn't have to slowly beat the onion to death and will the garlic to turn into smaller pieces as I mauled it with a very dull knife.
[Now, you may be asking at this point, "why not just sharpen the knives?" I thought of that. My grandmother is 96. She has most likely been using a very dull knife for the past two years, if not more. I worried that sharpening them may risk the chance that she cut herself. But, don't worry, a few days later I found the bread knife and was much happier.]
My first culinary experiment in Mamaw's house was a failure. She did not eat all the sauce on her plate and did not eat the leftovers! She did not like it at all. However, in this failure I learned two important lessons: 1) for Mamaw to like it, the vegetables must be overcooked and 2) sauces should be cooked extra long or put in the food processor.
I applied these two lessons to my second culinary experiment: stir fry. Ballsy, I know. Tomato sauce does not divert too far from what might be considered "normal" food. Stir fry, on the other hand, is not something that my grandmother eats regularly, and I would chance it to say, is something she has ever cooked. But, I had a General Tso's sauce mix that I got during my stop at the organic market in Knoxville and thought, "tonight, stir fry might be worth a try." I knew from my previous experience that I could not just make stir fry the way I am used to making it, I had to make stir fry for Mamaw.
The plan: 1) I would use vegetables that I know she likes (asparagus, broccoli, bell pepper, and onion). 2) I needed to over cook the vegetables, so I planned to blanch the broccoli and asparagus and cook the onion and pepper long and slow in the pan. 3) I needed to peel the pepper strips to help with chewing and digestion. 4) I would have her try the sauce before hand to make sure it was not too spicy. And, 5) I would make two separate stir frys so we could both be relatively happy about dinner.
The blanching worked well to tenderize the vegetables and actually made cooking the stir fry in the cast iron skillet much easier as I did not have to overcrowd the pan with all the vegetables. It worked so well I decided to blanch my asparagus and broccoli--although I accidently overcooked my vegetables! Mamaw tried a bit of the General Tso sauce and found it spicy, so I opted for teriyaki sauce instead. The major coup, I put Quorn imitation chicken in the stir fry.
My father had scoffed at the idea that I was going to try Quorn products on my grandmother. I figured they would be much more tender than meat and easier for her to eat. My father figured that imitation meat would be too "weird" for Mamaw. So, I didn't tell her about it. I just threw the Quorn in there and served it.
She was cautious. She clearly took less food than normal, probably to make sure it was edible. I asked her how the chicken was. She liked it! Found it "quite tender."
The best part of the night--besides my tasty meal--Mamaw went back for seconds. The real test: does she eat the leftovers.
