Too Much of a Good Thing?

Right now Peppermint Patty is my least favourite Peanuts character. It's nothing personal, but it is what it is.

Have you ever made something so often that you get to a point you never want to see, smell or taste it again?

I am gearing up for wedding season and am trying to get things out of the way that can be done ahead of time. One of my couples decided they wanted peppermint patties as part of their reception because it brought back memories of where they met (and where I met them as well). I determined that I could make the centres ahead of time and freeze them. Then all I have to do is dip them in chocolate the week of the wedding.

Well, I made a quadruple batch knowing I would have some leftovers but that is good in case some don't look nice or I decide I need them for another use. I figured I would do 130 for the wedding and if I could squeeze out 3 dozen more that would be great. Well, I worked for a couple of hours on them the first night and got 160 (about what I wanted) and still had some peppermint "dough" leftover. I put in the fridge and two days later I decided I would use it up. I kept making them and making them and ended up with 322 centres in my freezer! Now peppermint is a very acute scent. It can be pleasant, unless you are inhaling it for long periods of time. It permeated into my nostrils and even 3 days later I am still smelling it! Now I am not complaining, because I love my work, but I am making lots of notes on how many a batch actually does! At least I have a few weeks before I go on to the second phase to desensitize myself from the taste and smell of peppermint. Oh, and dear bride, if you are reading this, I love you to bits and would do it again in a heartbeat for you!

This brings me back to a memory of my maternal Grandmother. She would come stay with us during summers when I was growing up. One of my jobs in the summer to earn more allowance (so I could spend more time at the pool!) was to pick raspberries from the bushes in our back yard. I would do them in the early morning or evening so that it wasn't so hot. But my Grandmother was a diabetic and also happened to love raspberries. She ate them morning, noon and night and as such wanted me to pick them morning, noon and night! She was always asking if I could go get her a fresh bowl full even though there were tons in the fridge already waiting to be eaten, frozen or turned into jam. I would go, but after three long summers of this it got pretty tiring.

My friends used to call me "Raspberry" because I constantly smelled like them and my hands were often dyed red from the juice. For about 20 years I would get sick at the sight and smell of them and never wanted to ever be in contact with them again. But it finally wore off and I do eat and cook with them, in moderation. And when I do, I can now look back fondly at those days I had with my Grandmother and realize it really wasn't a high price to pay to make her happy....and I got paid for it too!

Isn't that the same in life? That we can get too much of a good thing and have to leave it aside for awhile. I got thinking of Susan Boyle, the Scottish singer who wowed the world with her beautiful voice that didn't fit the package it was wrapped in on "Britain's Got Talent". Within days she was all over the internet, TV, radio, papers, you name it. What is sad about this is that by the time she gets to the next round of the show two things may happen - people will be tired of the story and/or she will have been made over and the magic will be gone. I hope that they give her the space she needs to be herself and the rest of the world a chance to desensitize from the hype so her next performance will be as magical and enlightening as the first!

Meatloaf and Memories

I made meatloaf tonight. I was actually quite nervous about it too. Why would a so-called trained cook be nervous about making a simple meatloaf? I make them all the time, but NOT for my Dad. It is one of his favourite comfort foods and I remember the wonderful smells of meatloaf and fried potatoes wafting through the air in our home while growing up.

I don't make mine the same as my mother did. I of course don't use flour or crackers or oatmeal. Instead I use a little bit of sweet rice flour. No, it isn't sweet tasting, just more glutenous than regular rice flour without the wheat gluten that affects Hubby and I in different ways. I also don't use pepper so I have to rely on salt and my herbs to season everything.

So, as I threw this comfort food meal together I was filled with memories of a mother I miss who taught me more about cooking than I learned at school, and with a nice bit of anxiousness that it pass the taste test of her number one food fan, my father.

His eyes lit up when he saw it on the table, and after we said grace I watched out of the corner of my eye to see his first reaction. Much to my relief and delight, he had a very satisfied look on his face as he gobbled the plate full of food down. This is the man who wasn't eating much before he moved in with us and here he was wondering what I would do with the last of the fried potatoes, ready with fork in hand to save them from the garbage can (also known in this house as the dog dishes!).

Food can just be a way of sustenance or it can be a memory in the making. It all depends on how you want to look at it. For me, specially since Dad moved in, it has been a way to connect with a Mother who has been gone for many years, but lives in my heart and my kitchen.

Mother's Meatloaf (Modified)
2 pounds lean beef (I use extra lean)
1 small onion chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons mixed dried herbs (when I have fresh I use them)
salt and pepper as desired
2 eggs
1 oz (1/8 cup) sweet rice flour (or you can use cracker crumbs or regular white flour)
2 Tbsp ketchup
2 Tbsp BBQ sauce (home made is best but store bought is fine)
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Mix together with hands and press tightly into a large loaf pan, making a small trough all around the edge for the fats to run off. Cover the top with ketchup and/or BBQ sauce and bake at 350 for about 1 hour until the centre reads 170 on a meat thermometer or juices run clear. Drain fat off a few times during cooking. Let rest five minutes in pan, drain one more time and then turn over onto serving plate.