If This Table Could Only Talk - Grandma’s Kitchen
 I’ve come to believe that the idea behind the movie Like Water for Chocolate is actually true - you can feel the emotions of the cook in the food as you eat. I also believe that food evokes memories and can bring us back to certain points in our life with just one bite. My mother happens to be an exceptionally good cook. That’s not just my opinion, it’s the opinion of the hundreds of people who have gathered at her table over the last seven decades. The truth is they gather for her wisdom as much as for her cooking skills. In every meal there seems to be a bit of life advice you can carry with you long after the smells, sounds, and wonderful tastes have left the kitchen. These are some of her stories - remember, there’s always room at the table for one more. Enjoy!
The Story of the Chicken
My mother is famous for her quotes, sayings, and witty quips. In fact, she has gathered a book together of her favorites that she periodically rewrites by hand - just to make sure it’s neat and the paper isn’t yellowing. As I write this she is busy at her favorite task - giving advice to one of the grandchildren. She so often uses her gathered treasures of words that the kids can quote them back to her. But they don’t seem to mind, and secretly I think it gives my mother a great deal of pleasure to know THEY know her bits of wisdom. She’s been in the business of gathering all her life. She gathers quotes, kids, lonely souls, and good recipes. It started for her when she was a young girl baby-sitting her nieces and nephews and has continued through generations of kids that she has helped to raise. She’s known as Grandma to more than just her own biological offspring. In fact the most recent addition to the clan of little ones who call her Grandma is in no-way blood related. But to see them together you would swear the little guy is my own son.
So the chicken. One of the great heartaches of my mother’s life has been the distance between her and my one brother. He moved away when he was seventeen to join the Air Force and has been overseas or far from home his entire career. It wasn’t done on purpose to hurt my parents - and my mother knows that - but as any mother would she misses her once little boy. My brother has two grown daughters and grandchildren of his own, and much to all our dismay, we do not get to visit with them often. The irony is that my mother has raised so many children, in her home and in her heart, and yet my brother and his two daughters do not know her as well as she would like.
Not too many years back, maybe seven or eight, they all came home for a visit. My Pop was sick at the time and without anyone saying it we all knew it was the last time we would all be together. As is customary at my mother’s house, the table was covered from one end to the other with every type of food you could imagine. From prosciutto and chorizo to fruit and cheeses, a full antipasto was displayed and enjoyed by the many in-and-out visitors. At some point in the day my mother began to prepare dinner. Tonight it was to be her lemon chicken. You could smell the chopped garlic as it started it’s sizzle in the olive oil, both flavors meeting and joining in a dance of flavor. There are few truly rustic smells as warm and inviting. My brother’s youngest daughter, who was probably 27-years-old at the time was visibly upset. She kept looking at the table and shaking her head, somewhat in disbelief, a little in annoyance. I finally asked her what the trouble was, and at that moment I learned a life lesson from my mother I had secretly always known, but never put in words. My niece wanted to know why there was so much food. Wasn’t it wasteful? A little glutonous perhaps? There was plenty of perfectly good food already on the table, why was my mother up preparing yet another course? Without giving it a moment’s thought, my mother answered.
"If you come to my table and I serve you a cracker and a piece of cheese, or perhaps just a cup of coffee and a cookie - you can be certain that I’m happy to see you - but it’s not any special day in our lives. But when you come to my table and I fill it with the best of everything I have, all my favorite foods, and I cook for you - you can be certain you are loved beyond any other love that there is."
Food equals love. Some would argue that’s a terrible life lesson. But the truth is, it’s probably true. Throughout history the finest feasts have always been set for the greatest of celebrations. It crosses all stereotypes, all religions, and all cultures. Food is how you show status, power, love, and happiness. Even Christ himself prepared his disciples by celebrating a final meal together and used the fruit of the vine to perform His first miracle. In my family, and maybe in yours, food equals love. If we love you, we cook for you. If you love us, you eat.
The best part of the story is the light bulb that went on in my niece’s eyes. She suddenly understood something about her family she never really had the opportunity to grasp. Now when she’s due to come home for a visit she sends me an e-mail requesting her favorite meals. She and her husband look forward to Grandma’s recipes and her kids have been known to brag about the wonderful treats they are given when in New Jersey. Mom’s getting older, so I sometimes take over the duty of cooking these meals - and I have to admit as my niece and her family sit at Grandma’s table and enjoy the feast we’ve prepared for them, there is a certain sense of giving a great gift. It’s that amazing feeling of knowing you are safe, and loved, and will always be special. And every time I take a bite of my mother’s Lemon Chicken - I remember that time, that last time, we were all together at the table...sharing love and a well cooked meal.
Lemon Chicken ala Lola!
This is a family favorite my mother has been making for years. You will love it too! It’s a quick, easy, recipe to follow that ends in a yummy, home-cooked meal! Ask your friends to try it - let us know what you think!!! Enjoy!
8 thin sliced chicken breast (Four breasts sliced in two)
1/2 cup flour
salt
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. butter
1 cup onions, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 cup good white wine - chardonnay
1 cup chicken stock or broth
Juice of one lemon
1/2 cup fresh chopped parsley
Pasta of your choice (I like thin linguini or penne)
Put a pot of salted water on the fire for your pasta. Lightly salt your chicken breasts. Make sure they are washed and dried and cut thin. Dredge them in flour and lightly saute in hot olive oil in a large saute pan. When they turn golden brown, remove them and place on paper towel to absorb any excess oil. Once all the chicken is sauteed - add the butter to the pan (or you can add a tbsp of olive oil instead) and place the onions in the pan to cook. Lightly salt the onions...lightly. Lower the flame and allow the onions to cook and carmelize. When they look opaque, add the garlic. Saute the garlic for a moment, then add the white wine. Raise the flame to high until the wine boils, then lower to a simmer. Allow the alcohol to burn off - about 8 minutes. Add the chicken broth and lemon juice. Add the parsley. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Once it boils - add the chicken back into the pan and lower the heat to a simmer. Cover and cook. In the meantime - cook the pasta. When the pasta is done - drain and place in a large serving bowl. Put the chicken and sauce over the pasta - and serve!
Some additional thoughts:
VEGGIES: You can add vegetables to the recipe. Before you add the chicken in, add the veggies. Spinach, zucchini, asparagus, or broccoli all work well.
PIGNOLI NUTS: You can also add pignoli nuts (pine nuts) that make this wonderful! Saute the pine nuts with the onions - adding them in when the onions are about 1/2 way cooked.
THICKER SAUCE: If the sauce is not thick enough - you can make it more like a thin gravy by adding a rue. Take 2 tbsp of flour and mix it well into a cup of cold water. Pour the flour/water mixture into the sauce through a strainer, stirring well. It will thicken the sauce. Do this right before you add the chicken back in.
|
