YUM, PART 1

My mother had a fancy towel (never used) hanging in her kitchen. It showed a man being given a spoon full of something she was cooking. In his thoughts was another picture of himself with an older, grey-haired woman also giving him a spoonful of something. And underneath were the words, "Not like mother's."

Ah yes, nothing is like Mom's cooking, except maybe Grandma's. There are so many things that my grandmother's made that are lost now. Grandma Kofink always made a cherry cake–pink cake with maraschino cherries. I searched through all her recipes, but couldn't find it. My grandma Szlavik could make breaded chicken and pork chops that were out of this world. I've tried making them, but they aren't the same. Maybe she used lard. And then there were her Christmas cookies–delicious, flaky cookies. I have never discovered any recipe that is close.

Enough about what I can't do. I am about to share with you three very unusual dishes. A couple of them you might find in some form or another if you looked hard enough, the last one no one I have ever talked to has eaten unless they are relatives.

Dish One: Grandma Szlavik's Fired Noodles ala Mom's Version. This is a wonderful way to use up those left over noodles from Sunday's pot roast. What? There aren't any left over noodles? That's probably because you didn't make enough. The only way you can be sure no one's gone hungry is by making enough so that there is always some leftover. Leftovers are part of a frugal cook's planning. So what if you eat the same meal two or three times in a week (four times during Thanksgiving and Christmas week. A 40 pound turkey goes a long way.)

OK, I'll have to allow that you don't have any leftover noodles. You'll just have to make some. It's best if you do it the day before so they can develop that wonderful rubbery consistency from being left in the fridge over night, but in a pinch you can make some up and fry them the same day. Buy egg noodles–none of the reduced fat or no yolk noodles. They're yucky. Real egg noodles, extra, extra wide. Sadly, no one seems to make the really wide noodles, so you'll have to do the best you can.

First, cook the noodles in boiling water. DON'T OVER COOK THEM. If you make them too soft they'll congeal when you store them overnight or fall apart when you fry them. Next, drain the noodles very well. If you don't they'll get nasty in the fridge or they'll spatter hot oil every where when you fry them. Not a welcome experience. Heat a big ol' frying pan. My mother always used a cast iron pan. You can use one of these modern no stick pans if you want, but the finished food will lack that nice tangy flavor of rust.

Now the issue of the stuff to fry the noodles in. Mom always used Crisco, big, artery clogging lumps of the white stuff. (Grnadma probably used lard.) In the interest of health (as if frying anything could be healthy) I use canola oil. When the pan's hot, dump in the oil. How much? Enough. We never measured anything. Not just a thin film, but not so much that you could deep fry French fries. Use your head, for goodness sakes. Now I follow the frugal gourmet's advice: "Hot pan, cold oil, food won't stick." I'm not so worried about the sticking. As a matter of fact. A little sticky gets you those nice crunchy bits when it burns on to the bottom of the pan. No, I suggest using cold oil to avoid hot fat squirting in your eye when you dump the noodles in. OK, ready? One-two-three dump in the noodles. Stir them around with a spatula (a wooden or plastic one of you're using a no stick pan.) Get them nice and greasy. If there isn't enough oil, put some more in. (You see why I only make this a couple times a year. My heart couldn't stand the shock more frequently.) I can't really tell you how long to cook them. I like the noodles to have some crunchy ends and be a light golden brown here and there.

When you've got them to the right degree of doneness, add the eggs. How many? How should I know? Enough, but not too many. I think two eggs to 8 ounces of noodles is about right, but who am I to tell you how to do it. If you're the fastidious type, break the eggs into a bowl and mix them up a bit with a fork. Don't get carried away with a wire whisk or anything, for gosh sakes. You're not making souffles or any of that sissified gourmet food. This is basic peasant stuff. When did you ever see Julia Child using leftovers in a recipe? If you're more daring, just break the eggs on the side of the pan, flop them in, and them stir them around in the eggs real good. You've got to work quickly or the eggs will fry into a lump. You want them spread throughout the eggs. Add salt and pepper and when the eggs are cooked, you're done. Toss it on a plate and dig in.

Now when my grandmother made the same dish, she would add cottage cheese at some point and stir it around in the eggs and noodles. That's OK, but I prefer it cheeseless myself.

Dish two: Grandma Kofink's Pancake Soup. People look at me like I was nuts when I talk about pancake soup, but it is something well known among certain groups of German speaking people. Basically you use pancakes as if they were noodles. Here's how my father's mother did it. First, you need some pancakes. Not fresh pancakes, left over ones that have been sitting in the fridge for a day or two wrapped in waxed paper. What, you don't have any left over pancakes? You didn't make enough. Didn't you learn anything from making enough noodles?

These pancakes have to be real pancakes made from flour, eggs, milk, and a bit of baking powder, none of that Bisquick garbage. How much of each ingredient? How should I know? Grandma never measured anything. Just don't put in too much milk or they'll run all over the place. Make them nice and solid–and thick. Don't make fluffy, delectable pancakes. Make them so they stick to the ribs. In my family pancakes were not eaten for breakfast. They were eaten for supper, with syrup or jelly on them.

Back to the soup. First, get the water boiling to make a lot of bullion. How much? Do I have to even try to answer that? Enough!!!!!! We always made bullion using Wyler's Beef Bullion Cubes. No other brand would do. Yes, I know that bullion cubes are mostly salt with a little caramel coloring, but we're talking good, cheap food here. If it tastes good, it's good enough. You gonna spend all day cooking down beef stock for pancake soup? Get real.

While the bullion's simmering, cut up all the pancakes into cubes about 1/2 inch on each side. Put them into a big bowl or something.

When everything is ready, each person takes a soup bowl, puts in plenty of pancake cubes, maybe sampling a few to savor that wonderful doughy consistency. Now, mother ladles hot bullion over the pancake cubes. I suppose if you don't have a mother living with you, you'll have to do it yourself, but be careful, for goodness sakes. Don't spill any on yourself. Watch in amazement as the pancake cubes swell up in the bullion. You'd better eat it in a hurry or the pancakes will start to fall apart. Finished? Fill up another bowl and start again. Mmmmm.

Well, this has been long enough. I'll have to save the last delicious recipe for next time. Bon Appetit.

May the Lord God bless you on your way and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne