Just Like Old Times

I am swimming in nostalgia this week. On Wednesday, when I came home from work, the weather outside reminded me exactly of the Octobers of my youth, when we would all get excited for the costume parade at school for Halloween, and then all cry when we had to wear jackets over our costumes. Some people in my neighborhood must have fireplaces because I stepped out of the car and the aroma of burning wood filled my nostrils. I couldn't wait to get inside and curl up with a cup of hot chocolate. It's starting to get darker earlier (and will be dark by 4pm next week when we put the clocks back). There is a chill in the air. The weather is cloudy and rainy. The trees are giving off their final blaze of glory. I guarantee that if it wasn't raining, I would go take a walk in the park across the street and let the brown, yellow and red leaves crunch under my feet.

Maybe upon feeling this nostalgia, Saturday morning my boyfriend and I went out to eat "comfort food." For me it was an open faced turkey sandwich, served on white bread with mashed potatoes and gravy on top, all with a side of cranberry sauce. I hadn't eaten one of those since my days back at Mizzou in the dining halls. The same dining halls that would have a sign describing the night's side dish as "chessy" rice. There was nothing like the taste of a slice of Wonder bread, topped with a slice of processed turkey meat and a perfect ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes and bright yellow, almost snot-colored gravy. They usually only served those on weekends and it was great because a lot of people went home, so they always had plenty of servings. For Eric, his comfort food was meatloaf with mashed potatoes. Mushroom gravy on the meatloaf, different gravy on the potatoes. I smiled at his horror when he broke the dam on his mound of mashed potatoes and the gravys started to mix. This is not allowed in Eric's world. Each taste must be separate. He managed to shore up the damn and enjoy his lunch. Now meatloaf was not something my mother made. In fact, I don't believe I ever had meatloaf until I was 11 or 12 and living in New Mexico. I rode horses and my trainer one night before a horse show had me come by, learn how to braid my horse's mane, and then I stayed for dinner. Meatloaf, covered in Heinz ketchup. It was delicious. I am hoping that soon Eric and I can get a new oven so I can experiment with making my own meatloaf.

After lunch, Eric and I went to Kohl's and bought a waffle iron. When I was growing up, Sunday mornings when we had waffles were an event. My mother and father had a waffle iron that had been given to either her parents or his parents as a wedding gift. It was heavy, large, and the cord was beginning to get frayed. There was a big dome light on the front and I remember my brother and myself waiting until that light to glow yellow so that the batter could be poured slowly, out of the giant plastic bowl, onto the grid. Then the games began. My brother and I would guess whether the waffle would stick to the top or the bottom. Whomever got the right answer, got the waffle. And it was never good enough to just yell "top" or "bottom." You always had to yell it three times! "Top! TOP! TOP!!!" or "Bottom, BOTTOM, BOTTOM!!" There were cries of disappointment when we were wrong, cries of joy when we were right and my father said that he actually could accurately predict where it would end up depending on how the pour went. We, as children, of course believed him and were amazed that he was always right. Now when we went to Kohl's there were all sorts of new fangled waffle irons that turn and twist and fold and all that other unnecessary stuff. Then there was the Cuisinart waffle iron, that not only didn't twist and flip, but was also on sale! I am a big fan of Cuisinart, owning not only the original Cuisinart, but a mini-prep, coffee maker and hand blender that all carry the Cusinart name. So we got that and this morning I was thrilled to discover, that after my first "practice" waffle that ended up sticking everywhere, (My fault, I didn't use enough batter), that of the next two batches, one ended up on the top and one ended up on the bottom. Both tasted the same and were brown and beautiful. We covered them with butter and Mrs. Butterworth's syrup. It was great!

Tonight, we're going to have pork chops and applesauce. No, not really about the applesauce, but we are going to watch Bears football, have some pork chops and then watch "Dexter." That's not really nostalgic, but it's a nice way to end the weekend. A nice family, nostalgic weekend with my new family. Eric, Harley, Blair, Jasper and Elsie. Let's get out the jiffy pop and the plastic pumpkin to stick candy in and dive deep into the pool of our past.