I’m not talking specifically in the realm of comfort foods (but these are always welcome if you just can’t help remembering those satisfying meals your grandma used to make). I’m, instead, referring to those foods that for some reason or other have no meaning to you other than those begotten from childhood.
Mine comes from visits to my step-grandfather. Every time we visited (which occurred no more than a few times every few months) he would offer us cherry ice cream. And every time…I would tell him I don’t like cherry ice cream and would refuse his offer. It wasn’t that he suffered from Alzheimer’s or just plain didn’t care, but…hmm…it just happened so often that I sort of stopped thinking about it and just repeated what seemed to become some ritualistic exchange. He passed away before I ever had a chance to ask him what was up with that cherry ice cream of his but alas I’m left to wonder. I’ve since tried cherry ice cream as an adult and, to my surprise, find it quite tasty (my Pop Pop would have loved Cherry Garcia) but am now reminded of him and this odd exchange every time I have cherry ice cream.
So…what are your odd/amusing/interesting childhood food memories?
Oatbread… whenever we went to visit Nanna in Nova Scotia she’d have oatbread in tins to raid for nibbling. I’d spread butter over it and just munch down. I haven’t had any since the last time I was there… 9 years ago.
I really ought to dig out the recipe and try to make it myself.
McDonald’s cheeseburgers and Orange Drink. My mom wasn’t terribly domestic.:rolleyes:
Also Dillybars from Dairy Queen. My great-grandfather kept tons of them in his freezer, especially for his 15 grandchildren and over 30 great-grandchildren. That’s an awful lot of Dillybars. He didn’t even like them. He stocked them every week, right up until the day he died, at age 101.
My Mom was not very domestic either so we did a lot of eating out and canned/frozen foods etc. One thing I really liked was Weaver battered chicken wings. They kind of had a tempura style batter on them and they were greasy and yummy. They stopped making them a few years ago. I wish they would bring them back.
Pikelets - I used to always hope I would be sick and off school on a Wednesday so that I could go with my Mum and Nan to their ladies tennis day.
My Nan always made pikelets (like little sweet pancakes, not sure if the word is the same outside of Australia) for afternoon tea, and the other tennis ladies would bring sandwiches and cakes. I also remember that she took a little jug of Gatorade made from powdered stuff, and it was the only time I ever got to drink it. Sitting in among them and having them all fuss over me and eating the lunch is such a vivid memory.
Can’t make my pikelets quite like my Nan though.
I also remember McDonalds was such a treat, the excitement on the way there in the car was overwhelming. Hardly touch it in my adult life!
I bought a box of corndogs the other day. I can’t remember the last time I had a corndog, but these things (and their cousin, the hot dog) always remind me of being a kid again. I remember the times when a meal was a hot dog cut up on a place with a little patch of katchup and a little patch of mustard.
I’ve had hot dogs rather infrequently over the years (barbecues and the like), but everytime I do, I always think back to being a kid and not really being able to see over the table. Good times.
Velvetta cheese does it for me. We had that and fried balogna sandwiches on a semiregular basis. Also, pinto beans and ham bones. Cornbread and buttermilk.
I haven’t eaten Velvetta or balogna in years and don’t care for them. But beans are the food of the Gods, and ever once in a while I must have cornbread and buttermilk…the cornbread better not be that sweetened type, either!
Mmmmm…cornbread in a glass of buttermilk…good eat’ns
Not a food I get to have, but a memory of one I absolutely loved: corn fritters. My mother used to make these marvelous, not-quite-sweet, lightly salty, very greasy fritters for dinner every now and then. They may have been intended as a side dish, but if so, I have no recollection whatsoever what they were on the side of. I just remember they were wonderful. I asked Mom about them recently, and she just barely remembers them, and has no idea how they were made. I’ve tried a number of recipes, but none come close to that vivid taste-memory.
Foods I do get to have that bring back memories: farina with butter and Domino’s BROWNULATED ™ brown sugar (breakfast with Dad), pastina made with chicken broth and parmesan cheese (lunch with Grandma), and toffee cookies, like my Nonny used to buy from the Italian bakery for Sunday coffee mornings.
I have a peculiar habit of eating pancakes with brown sugar mixed with sour cream which I gleaned from my grandfather. I think of him every time I eat pancakes…especially if I’m “forced” to use maple syrup.
I also have a memory each for both of my parents. For my dad, it was a coke float. Unofortunately, his health prohibits him from eating anything dairy or anything carbonated these days, but I’ve longed to share some time with a coke float each for some time now.
My mother always used to bake the absolute best banana-cream pie. A banana is truely the world’s most perfect food. I buy bananas ripe because they don’t last long enough to get ripe. I try to eat one a day, though I usually eat more. However, my mom’s banana cream pie not only had big old chunks of real bananas in it, it also had real meringue topping, real banana pudding, and a crunchy-crumbly graham cracker crust. It would stay in one piece just long enough to make it to the plate, and then it would collapse in a heap. But it was always a full five minutes of banana-paradise satisfaction. Whenever I eat banana cream pie these days, I think longingly back to the days of the last “real” banana cream pie I ate.
All I ever want for my birthday is one of these pies. I always get something else:(
My grandpa was a standoffish, unemotional kinda guy, but I can remember two or three summer visits where he made rootbeer floats. He sat there silently eating his with me before disappearing back into his shop again. It was odd, but now I can look back and see it was a big statement from him.
My mother (though not a good cook by any means) used to make liver dumpling soup.
I was not one to eat much at all, but I loved it.
Everyone says eww when i mention it, but it really was good.
I would never make it, as I have no stomach for grinding raw liver.
When I was young, we had an above-ground swimming pool in our backyard. After my brohter and I went swimming, my mother would always make us cheese sandwiches (white bread, margerine, and American cheese “singles”).
Every once in awhile, espeically if I get the munchies late at night, I will make myself a cheese sandwich and it never fails to take me back…
vanilla - I remember the first time my grandmother served me liver dumplings. I could not imagine that I would like them, but Grandma was the old-fashioned “you don’t know what you don’t like until you try it” type, so I tried them. They were wonderful. I’d give a lot to have them again, but when I’ve read recipes for them, I am just too grossed out to try.
