My mother also cooked her turkeys dry. She knew it wasn’t supposed to be that way, but partly because she couldn’t figure out what she was doing wrong and partly because she and my father liked it, she never put a lot of effort into achieving a moister result.
I’m perfectly happy with very dry turkey because of that. The lubrication is supposed to come from the gravy!
This was my mom’s as well. And she made cream gravy with the leftover grease. And mashed potatoes. And biscuits. Oh how I miss it. I’ve tried to replicate it but just can’t.
We used the gravy over rice. Man! That hit the spot. Whenever I’d go to mom’s after being away, she’d ask what I wanted to eat when I got there. I always said the same thing–round steak and rice.
I’ve tried and tried–even using mom’s old cast-iron skillet–but I’ve never gotten it just the way she made it.
Beef stroganoff. It’s a recipe from an old Betty Crocker cookbook as I recall, made from ground beef, onions, garlic, flour, salt, pepper, canned mushrooms, canned cream of chicken soup, and sour cream. Pretty much everything else I’ve either improved on or just don’t make anymore, but that stroganoff recipe was a favorite as a kid and sort of a comfort food for me.
Also Carrot Cake. That one cannot be improved.
My mother did not know how to cook when my parents got married. She taught herself from the Fannie Farmer cookbook, which brought her up to competence. She taught me, and I became far more adventurous. When I moved out, I thought I would need a Fannie Farmer of my own, but it turns out I already know how to cook, and for most things I take one of the first hits on Google as a starting point and improvise.
My mother made meatloaf baked in a sauce made of uncondensed tomato soup and onion soup mix. I detested it as a kid. Somehow, as an adult, the tomato soup version has grown on me and I make it that way about half the time.
Mama Plant made spaghetti with tomato soup. No meat.
She was outraged that I liked her Mother in law’s much better. Tomato paste, ground beef and garlic. The sauce would cling to the vermicelli. She said Italian women taught her to cook. Stuttgart, AR, relatively famous for ducks and rice growing, had many German families, too. The burg was apparently crawling with Axis folks.
Gaaah, I can’t help it. This story is slightly off-topic, but since spaghetti keeps coming up I just have to tell it.
This story was told years ago by a very good friend of my grandfather at my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary party.
"When my daughter was young, my wife had this special family spaghetti sauce recipe she always used. Being Italian, this recipe took a lot of time and care. In fact, it took 3 days to make, stewing and simmering on the stove.
One day, our daughter was over at Mildred’s house, and they had spaghetti for dinner. She came home absolutely raving about the spaghetti and how wonderful the sauce was. ‘It was so delicious.’ she said. Well, my wife just had to find out the recipe of the wonder that could exceed her 3 day sauce. So she called Mildred up and said, ‘My daughter just loved your spaghetti sauce. You must tell me the recipe.’ Mildred said, ‘There’s not much to it, all I do is open up a jar of Ragu.’
We never had 3 day sauce again."
Mrs. J. and I were both traumatized by having grandparents who prepared meals using a meat grinder. They’d feed a perfectly good piece of meat into the hopper, crank the handle, and loathsome grey-pink strands would snake out of the contraption’s perforations.
I suspect that it got heavy use because my grandparents had bad teeth, but urrrrggggh.
Ragu?
You may as well open a can of Chef Boyarde. (sp). I have so little regard for that brand, I cannot spell it.
This. We still make my Mom’s, consisting of ground beef, chopped onion, garlic powder, tomato sauce, Worcestershire sauce, salt, basil, and oregano. I add a bay leaf.
Does anyone remember eating mock chicken legs? It was some kind of meat product formed in a rectangular cube with a stick (like a corndog) in it. My mom bought those a couple of times, but I don’t think they went over very well.
I also remember cube steak. UGH! My mom would bread it and fry it. A few bites were always pretty tasty, but then you hit the gristle. BLECH! Another dish that didn’t win any blue ribbons.
I still make my mom’s sloppy joes using Campbell’s Chicken Gumbo soup, ketchup and a little mustard. I don’t like them any other way.
Do a web search on “city chicken”.
No wonder we didn’t like it!
Same here. I had a look online yesterday and didn’t find much in the way of a match. Many variations on a basic idea. Most recipes call for bell pepper, onion, Cajun seasoning and flour to make actual gravy. I tried this variation today as an experiment and it came out so well I didn’t bother with the rice:
Three round steaks about the thickness of my little finger, season with Worcestershire sauce, onion and garlic powders, salt and oregano, pan-fry until well browned and set aside. In same pan, sauté chopped onion and sliced Portabello mushrooms, add beef broth and steaks and cook with lid on low heat for one hour. I added a little water after 30 minutes and at the end there was just the right amount of sauce (not much).