the thin chef

I come by my love of sharing a meal with people very honestly. When I was little, every calendar (or made-up, or self-imposed) holiday was an excuse for a cookout or some other occasion to get together and eat. So, every July 4, memorial day, birthday, school holiday, etc., my immediate and extended family (the ones who live in Orlando) would gather for a meal.

Aunt Glo, my grandmother’s diminutive, curly-haired, sweet-souled sister, was always in attendance, and almost always contributed something delicious. Aunt Glo is one of those cooks whose love is clearly evident in her food. Most of the classic dishes she makes are painstaking and laborious, but with every succulent bite, you are thankful she took the time. My childhood memories are infused with the foods Aunt Glo (who also has an unabashed love of hot wings) lovingly made for us. Luscious, velvety chicken soup with hand-rolled dumplinglike noodles, pickled macaroni salad with precisely diced vegetables and a sugary, vinegary dressing, and those 50s-style Bisquick/sausage/cheddar balls that are so bad they’re good…plus crumbly, nutty pecan balls—my favorite cookies of all time. And I can still taste the fresh peach ice cream Glo’s late husband, Web, made every summer.

She’s someone who is comfortable in the kitchen, having spent a large chunk of her life cooking in a kitchen so tiny it is smaller than most closets. She knows all the tricks of the trade, and everything she makes comes out just right. One of my favorite tricks of Aunt Glo’s is her ingenious way of steaming the buns for an entire batch of burgers. We would often gather at Aunt Glo and Uncle Web’s thimble-sized house for summer cookouts, drinking Susie’s sweet iced tea, playing horseshoes, and swinging in the shade on the metal glider. When the burgers came off the grill, Aunt Glo immediately put each one between a soft, white bun, and then placed them back inside the thin plastic bread bag, securing it with the twist-tie. In just a few minutes, the buns were steamy hot, ready for grabbing out of the bag and dressing with French’s yellow mustard, fresh Florida tomatoes and iceberg lettuce.

A burger in a condensation-coated plastic bag is a snapshot from my formative years. Every now and again, I need a sentimental reminder of those good old days. Sure, I love a good crusty bun surrounding a gourmet burger, but sometimes…sometimes simple and familiar are exactly what I want.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 4th, 2009 at 8:12 pm and is filed under basic techniques, comfort food. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.