When the Ordinary Becomes Extraordinary

"Food is not about impressing people. It's about making them feel comfortable."

-- Ina Garten
"The Barefoot Contessa"


It will come as no surprise to you that I love to watch The Food Network. Just this past weekend I happened to see part of a program about the creation of a gourmet supermarket in Toronto. It appears to be enormous in size, that's for sure, but since it is still under construction I can only try to imagine what the finished entity will be like, or what products will be proudly on display.

After all, there already seems to be a plethora of up-scale supermarkets just bursting at the seams with exotic grocery items. And, honestly, even the most basic stores now carry a vast array of foods and products that our mothers (or grandmothers) would never have dreamed of finding on the shelf.

I know that my own children's concept of 'ordinary food' would have seemed outrageously exotic to me as a child. Our small town in rural Southwestern Ontario was pretty much cut off from the delights of international cuisine. Except, of course, for the obligatory Chinese restaurant uptown (always 'uptown', never 'downtown') which sported the not-so-traditional Chinese name, "The Esquire Restaurant'. Even so, dining there would no doubt have at least opened up my mind and my taste buds just a little, however we never ate there. No, my parents were pretty solid on the idea that eating in restaurants was horribly wasteful and needlessly extravagant. Eating was what you did at home.

Flash forward a few decades and my kids grew up thinking nothing of eating Chinese stir-fries, Mexican tacos and quesadillas, Italian lasagne and other pasta dishes, as well as the big favourite - Indian curries. These dishes are so familiar to them that they take them as common and ordinary and not in the least exotic. And I expect the astonishingly extensive offerings of today's supermarkets must seem pretty commonplace as well.

But the world I lived in as a child in the late fifties and early sixties was a very different world indeed. For instance, I spent my entire childhood never once having seen the inside of a supermarket. I had, in fact, never even heard the word 'supermarket' and I'm not sure it even existed back then. What we had in our town was one, and only one, 'grocery store'. It was small, it was plain, it didn't carry any 'fancy-schmancy' foodstuffs; and it was owned by a local couple whom everyone who shopped there knew personally.

So why wasn't I familiar with this essential town business? Because not only did I never have occasion to visit there, neither did my mother. How could that be? Well, my mother never did learn to drive and had five children at home, so her solution was to simply write out a shopping list during the week and then phone in her order on Friday mornings. Then, each Friday afternoon a truck would pull up in front of our house and a delivery man would drop off one, or maybe even two, boxes of groceries.

Our meals were quite plain and extremely predictable. Certainly no herbs or spices were ever used and never, ever any garlic. They were really such a far cry from most of the dishes I enjoy today. But, even so, we always seem to have such an incredibly strong and comforting connection to the foods that fueled our childhoods. I hear this over and over again from all sorts of people, no matter where in the world they grew up. It seems to be a universal truth.

Last week my sister, Sandy, mentioned that she was planning to make an old-fashioned meatloaf recipe that she and Mom had made together about 20 years ago when Mom had travelled to northern B.C. for a visit. Sandy said it had smelled wonderful while cooking and then tasted even more delicious. Plus, it had the extra appeal of reminding her of long-ago childhood meals. Sandy liked it so much she continued to make it over the years, although since she became vegetarian she has used "Yves Veggie Ground Round" instead of the ground beef.

Last Friday, the temperature suddenly plummeted and it was raining as well; a dark and gloomy day more like mid-November than the beginning of May. After work, I knew Mark would be heading out from Goderich to my place in London, through this wretched weather - and on his motorcycle. I knew he would be needing something nice and hot to warm up his frigid bones.

I decided to shop at a supermarket on the way home and pick up the necessary ingredients for Sandy's recipe. When I got home, Mark had just arrived, so while he changed into dry clothes and tried to get his circulation going again, I busied myself with cooking. In no time at all I had whipped up the veggie 'meatloaf', some creamy mashed potatoes with vegetarian brown gravy, some mixed vegetables with cheese sauce, and a bowl of fresh cole slaw. Mom would have been proud!

And, my goodness, it was wonderful! Mark felt warmed and rejuvenated and my son, Daniel, pronounced the loaf delicious and actually surprisingly 'meaty'.

As for me, just before sitting down to eat, I looked out of the dining room window at the cold and the rain and the wind and I shivered. Then, I began to eat my steaming hot and homey dinner and I felt a familiar warmth washing over me. This was comfort food at its best; I just loved it! And although I could still hear the noise of the swirling winds outside, I also came very, very close to hearing the sounds of my dear mother, bustling away happily - way, way back in my cozy childhood kitchen.

Cheers!

Diane


Here is a link to my sister, Sandy's well-used recipe, compliments of "Uncle Ben's".

http://www.unclebens.ca/en-ca/Recipes/RecipeFinder.aspx#RecipeID=2245

I think it would be much, much better with "Yves Original Ground Round", but that's only my opinion. (And Sandy's!)