Good Food/Bad Food

I fed my kids a lot of things that I ate as a child, and a lot of things I didn't.  Some things I tried and they didn't go over, and some things I didn't think about.  My mom fed her family of six on a small income so we didn't have anything very fancy.  My mom had a minor in Home Economics and knew what should be served to make a nutritious and nice looking meal. I never did as well, although I could if I took the time and thought about it.

One thing we had was canned corned beef hash with poached eggs.  Mom made little holes in the hash to cook the eggs in.  I fed my kids liver until they found out what it was.  Mom always floured and seared it and then baked it in the oven until it was tough.  She made liver gravy with milk that we ate on mashed potatoes with chopped raw onions on top (or at least mom and I did.) I have learned to make liver so that is isn't as tough as whang leather, but I liked it then.  We generally had canned spinach as a side dish that we ate with vinegar.  I liked that, too.  I used to make liver once in a while for my dad, who loves it.  The last time I ate it, AC*, I vowed never to eat it again.  With no taste, it was like eating a sponge, and it was awful. Jim doesn't like it anyway.  We were raised to eat everything that was offered, but mom only made us eat some.  I remember eating only once, creamed cabbage.  I hated it.  Whether we had it again, I don't remember. I hated cooked pudding because of the skin on top, I hated stewed tomatoes because they were cold over soggy bread, I hated cornbread because I didn't like anything with corn in it, except...corn. I would eat that with peanut butter to cover the taste and wash it down with milk.  Mom let us have as much milk as we wanted.  In the days before 2%, she would make up dry milk and use half store milk, half reconstituted dry milk for what we called mixed milk. Drinking milk and swallowing yucky stuff whole, was a real thing.  I like corn bread now.  

Another food memory goes way back to the days when my brother Andy was born and my Aunt Barb came to look after us while she was in the hospital.  About the only thing I remember about those days is that we had runny-yolked poached eggs with little pieces of bread mixed in and she fed us like birds.  

*After Cancer