The food of my childhood. “What did you eat when you were a kid?” Jack W. asked the question. Depends on who raised you, doesn’t it?
My grandmother Baird served big meals on an oaken claw-foot table. She came from an east Texas – Louisiana plantation tradition and I suppose that’s how she cooked. At mealtime the table held serving dishes with all sorts of vegetables, all overdone and soggy, southern style. There was always a platter with pieces of nondescript meat, which nobody seemed to eat.
Grandmother Crossley was raised on a ranch in LaSalle County, up from Laredo, and her basic fare was beef in its various forms. T-bone steaks were a staple, served with potatoes and green beans – well salted. She made the best meat loaf I’ve ever tasted. Seasoned and with onions – no tomatoes, thank you! A little boy looked forward to her suppers. And could she make cookies!
You would think my mother would have learned to cook from her own mother. Not so; my father told me he taught her himself. She never mastered Dad’s knack with cheese; it was a foreign food to her. My father, the only child of a widow, lived with several different grandparents where he learned to cook all kinds of things. Ever an innovator, he jumped onto the latest fad at the grocery store. He introduced me to the microwave.
In Kingsville , growing up, we had a favorite restaurant, the White Kitchen, which Mom steered us to on holiday occasions. I remember their enormous T-bone steaks. Mom just didn’t like anything about her own kitchen.
Every town in Texas seemed to have a Greek restaurant. Our town had two, and they featured Kansas City Steaks. No Italian eateries – I didn’t know spaghetti was an Italian food. Mexican restaurants, of course, and good chili. Mostly enchiladas and tacos, with rice and beans. Things like nachos and fajitas, standards today, were unheard of.
My favorite has always been tamales, especially when home-made. It’s a Christmas tradition in south Texas. Mom’s students would bring paper bags of tamales to the house, and I’d feast on them. My friend Larry’s mother made tamales in a big iron pot in the back yard. I’d hurry over there for breakfast, when Larry heated tamales in the oven. His sister Sarita made enchiladas to die for. In later years, at my request, she sent me her recipe, hand written. Most of the instructions concerned preparation of the sauce to dip the tortillas.
Wow! It’s lunchtime. Think I’ll head for the kitchen and… Well, I’ve got the flu and everything tastes terrible. I guess I’ll open a can of Wolf Brand Chili – a real Texas treat.
Dac Crossley
January 30, 2016
“I know my family comes first, but shouldn’t that be after breakfast?” – Jeff Lindsay.