by Kim Janine Ligon
There are lots of Christmas memories that involve food. Tantalizing aromas wafting out
of the kitchen. I’m the oldest of ten kids and as soon as we each became old enough to
wield a peeler or chopper, Mother put us to work. She didn’t cook anything herself, but
orchestrated the meal through all of us. My husband said she ran her kitchen like a
general planning a battle. I spent many hours working side-by-side with my sisters. My
brothers were on the young end of the line so they escaped kitchen duty. But memories of
Christmas in the kitchen would not be complete without lots of laughter. Some of the
most memorable ones involve disasters averted. Here are two.
Mother read somewhere, we never knew where, that the best way to heat brown and
serve rolls was in a brown paper sack in the oven to keep them fresh and moist. So...she
did that, but apparently skipped a step. Soon smoke was billowing out of the oven. I
opened the oven door, wet towel in hand to douse the burning bag. Mother grabbed
another towel and tried to blow out the flames by fanning the towel. Luckily I got them
out with the wet towel before she managed to set my hair on fire. My nephew Patrick
took part of the charred remains of the bag to put in a baggie as a memento of the
Christmas eve that Grandma tried to burn down the house. Mother insisted the rolls tasted
fine - she was right if you liked more than a hint of smokiness to your dinner rolls.
The second episode occurred because after years of peeling, what seemed like ten pounds of potatoes, Mother found a way to make boxed instant potatoes taste like the peeled thing. Christmas Eve she instructed me to put sour cream in the potatoes. When I asked how much, she said to "just use what's in the refrigerator." I did and she was right, the result was delicious "real" potato taste.
Christmas morning I went over to her house early to make the hash brown potato casserole only to discover that one of those cartons of sour cream was supposed to be saved for the next morning's brunch. I called my sister Lisa who was still at the hotel to have her pick up sour cream on the way over. Mother lived in a small town where there was only a convenience store open that morning. Lisa called in a panic, no sour cream but they did have several cartons of French onion chip dip. She bought all they had. Mother stayed out of the kitchen, although she wondered what was going on with all the whispering and phone calls. We skipped the onions in the recipe and added the dip. We stuffed the empty cartons in the bottom of the trash bag and immediately took it out to the garage.
When the brunch was over Mother proclaimed that was the best casserole she'd ever made, not that she made this one. We might have gotten away with it but I started laughing and it became contagious. When we were all laughing to tears, we finally confessed what the special secret ingredient was. Unfazed, Mother simply announced she would always use French onion chip dip in the recipe from now on. It was pretty tasty!
Wishing you and yours all the blessings of this Season and may your only disasters turn out to be tasty!
Kim Janine Ligon has been writing stories for most of her life—some on paper and some only in her head. She has lots of source material growing up as the oldest child in a large family in a small town in Wisconsin. Her father was a veterinarian so there were not only lots of children around, but all manner of house pets and farm animals too. Her love of reading comes from her mother who was seldom seen sitting down without a book in her hand. After a demanding career in healthcare information technology, she is now getting to do all the creative things she loves which includes writing her stories to share with you. She lives with her chief encourager and personal romantic hero, her husband of almost forever, in Alabama. Please follow her further adventures at www.spinningromance.com or email her at kimjanine@spinningromance.com
Her books are cozy mysteries with sweet, clean romance plus her latest is a Victorian Christmas Romance. Find them here: https://mybook.to/AllMyBooks
We've had many crazy holidays ourselves! The year my mom cooked the turkey without unwrapping it reminds me of your roll incident. The time my grandma forgot to put sugar in the chocolate pie reminds me of your casserole story, without the happy ending, yuk! Then there was the year Grandma ate the pot pourri thinking it was an appetizer. And the year she choked on her dentures, and we all lost our appetite... But those become the stories you tell, and tell again, at the not-so-disastrous holiday meals! Thank you for sharing your family stories with us!
Love the stories. It cracks me up that you mom was the orchestrator of the meals, not the cook. I think I should embrace that role -- but without the 10 kids. Wow!
Thanks for being here today, Kim. A lot of my favorite Christmas memories took place in family kitchens!