OK so I can cook. Why? Because my dad did all the cooking as a kid so naturally I thought of course I would cook. I love to cook. This flashback isn't about me cooking or even my dad cooking. Or the stove we had in Ohio that was gas but had no pilot light so you had to light the oven with a match. Scary, but hey it came from the salvation army, what are you gonna do?
My Mother used to cook. Long ago. She herself admits that she just doesn't have the patients for it. She would have been all set had microwaves been invented in the 60's then it would have been all good. I wouldn't know how to do anything but press "add one minute" if it wasn't steaming enough by the time it was about to ding. But no.
This flashback is about one thing she would make. We lived in the south. North Carolina to be exact. Funny how anything with North in the name can be so god damn southern, but oh my it is. When I was there in the 70's it was also still quite racist. Since I haven't been there in many years I'll reserve judgment on what it's like now. For all I know David Sedaris has fixed it all in NC and they are all nice reformed liberals who know why it's important not to disenfranchise someone, but I kinda deep down doubt it.
Being from the south we had to have pork products. It's a rule. So we would on occasion have a ham. Not a country ham (I do love those ah salt) but a honey baked ham like they have up north in Virginia... ya up north... still the south. So a ham is a big fuck off piece of meat. So you don't get to eat it in one sitting and if you can you will likely not live past 30 because that's a fuck load of fat etc. So much for the health food tips considering I'm talking about eating HAM.
There is only so much one can do with a ham. I can recall grinding it up for ham salad. That was fun with the giant crank thing that had a screw that could take pretty much anything and make it look like ham salad. Ham salad... OXY-MORON people. Ham does not make a salad. Green things make a salad. OK again I'm way off this flash back but truly this is related. Another one was the dreaded hot ham and cheese sandwiches which did not contain cheese and when finally prepared were not at all hot, but I'm ahead of myself.
My mothers idea of cooking... Imagine the kitchen covered in aluminum foil. Every surface has nice big ass pieces of Al foil on them. My mother walking around the kitchen with hot dog buns (maybe that's where the word "hot" comes from in the "hot ham and cheese") putting one bun on each foil square. On the stove was the double boiler. OK I don't think mom could burn something in the double boiler so we're safe there 212 degrees no hotter so we're good. Now in the top of the double boiler she had put a bunch of velveeta... NOT CHEESE and cubed ham. A lot of it. Then this was cooked like this for the whole time she was laying out the foil and the hot dog buns. Then after that was done she would spoon out the cheese like ham filled substance into each bun. Now I have to admit eating one right then was OK. Not great. If she had used cheese it would have been really good but no.
Then she wrapped them all up. We're talking like 75 hot dog buns with fake cheese and cubed pig wrapped in foil and stuffed right into the god damn freezer. Stacked like mutherfuckin cord wood. Lots of them. NO room for ice cream this week, J.R. no sirrrreee we gots hot ham and cheese sandwiches. Um no not hot... FROZEN. So then for months after that, fuck I was little it might have been years if you dared say to my mother, "I'm hungry" or the dreaded "What's for lunch?" the reply would be the same: "Go have a hot ham and cheese sandwich. And while you're in there, fill up my Pepsi." (I could and will do an entire blog post on "fill up my Pepsi", but I do not have the energy right now). So you head up the oven. Yes you light the muther with a match and hope you don't blow your own head off. Then you throw it in. A small aluminum covered block of ice and you wait. Did I mention you're hungry? You're 8. You aren't waiting. So you feel it. Yes I burned my freaking little fingers so it must be done. um no. Never. I don't think I ever ate one that wasn't still frozen in the middle. Are you grossed out? Welcome to my childhood. So what's the score?
Ham? Yes.
Hot? No.
Cheese... No. Velveeta processed cheese food.
Yum.
No wonder I once ate (i.e. choked down) a whole bouillon cube rather than ask my mother for food...
J.R. Hughson
