Old Foods and New Years

There are some things that my mom made when I was a child that I still remember with a poignant, nostalgic hunger: cinnamon buns at Christmas with white frosting and red maraschino cherries on the top (memorable because my mother, a responsible mother of the 70s and 80s, shunned red food colouring); tea biscuits with winter suppers, to be devoured afterwards with margarine and homemade jam; hot milk sponge cakes on lazy Sunday afternoons; pancakes on Saturday mornings while we watched HOURS of cartoons.

It's funny what we take away from our childhood, this brief, haunting space of time. I have had - and, I will say with no real modesty, made - any number of delicious things in my adult life, but none of them possess the same enchanted glow as a bowl of orange jello brought to me in a silver bowl when I was in the hospital at 8. I can't even remember what my birthday cake tasted like this year, beyond it being delicious, but I could tell you in detail about my childhood birthday cakes, delicate and chocolate and sandwiched together with strawberry preserves.

I read in a cookbook ages before I had kids that it was important to keep in mind what "taste memories" we are building for our children, which I mentally squirreled away, thinking at the time that it sounded like quite sensible advice. Now, though, I'm not so certain - I don't think we get to pick what "taste memories" our children take away from childhood, since my kids have no memories at ALL of me ever making things that I am quite proud of and make WAY too often (brownies, anyone?) but speak yearningly of doughnuts that their grandfather bought them two winters ago.

And then there are the things that I make without even thinking about, like the tray of polenta squares (totally simple and from the cookbook that came with my son's lunchbox) that I pulled out of the oven last night, and which my husband had never even SEEN before, since they're normally packed in school lunches and eaten before he gets home. Yet I make them nearly every week and they're received with a surprisingly rapturous glee by my kids, this food that I rarely even think about and that he'd never even seen.

Most people go into parenthood wanting to give their children a good childhood, to give their children happiness, sweet-tasting and mild. The problem with children, though, is that they're actual people and live in the actual world and we don't actually get to control other people or the world - well, I don't, although that feels unfair. And we also don't get to say what memories they'll keep from their childhood, which is sort of depressing, just like my stupid polenta squares.

A lot of people take stock of their health in January, and make plans to eat healthier in this still-new year. It's certainly not a bad idea - my personal resolutions are to eat more fruit, to have more vegetables with supper and to cut back on how many processed foods we eat, but I have other food resolutions beyond those. I want to make more soul-feeding foods, more foods that will stay (possibly) in their memories long after childhood is over, long after this goes from being their home and just becomes the house they grew up in, long after childhood is over and this all has just become memory, vivid and bittersweet and gone.

Comments

[kgirl]

Oh my gosh, this was a lovely post.
I aspire to the same things, and while I'm busy trying to shove as many interesting, healthy, homemade meals down my children's throats, I should remember that my own taste memories are of things as pedestrian (and possibly gross) as Ketchup Stew, Spaghetti and Sausage and Peppers.

[Omaha Mama]

Soul-feeding, I like that. Spaghetti and meat sauce was and is a favorite of mine, I have no idea why. For my brother (who is 5 years older than me) it is barf-inducing. Go figure.
I also like how you put that...about kids being people and us not being able to control their likes, tastes, and memories. Darn it all.
We are trying to go with more veggies, more fruits, and more diversity in the meal plans.

I know you're on a blog break, but you could always keep up a little on your recipes blog, right??? I suppose it counts too, in the no-blogging-thing, huh?

[Woman in a window]

Maybe it was because our mothers didn't experiment as much as we do, that this is the case. Or maybe it's because we have a vast wealth of recipes whenever we want them and they had three books, but whatever it is, I hope my kids have at least a few taste memories as they move on. Tonight it's oatmeal cake. Who knew it would be a success. I already marked it boring in the cookbook and they leapt shouting with thumbs up. What's up with that?

[Helen]

Ah, I really loved this post. This is totally how it is with food and memories.

I share memories of food with my best friends, too, like "do you remember the Marshmellow Cream we used to eat when we"... Mostly it is silly food that makes us remember silly times when we were giggling teenagers.

A lovely New Years's resolution: making soulfood...!

[bren j.]

Food was such a huge part of my childhood....watching Mom make perogies, entering baked goodies in the fair with Grama. Perfect meals or treats made by Mom or Grama are delicious little secrets that I can't wait to pass on to our LG. Kitchens are indeed where happy memories are made. Thanks for this post, Beck.

[becky]

Wow! That is so true. I had never thought of taste memories as something real but I often think of things in my past I have tasted, which bring me vivid recollections of events, people, even emotions.

Certainly something to think about.

[Chantal]

Like you said, kids remember what they want to, not what you want them to. I longed for my moms scalloped potatoes. Then I realized it was in the vintage Red Rose cookbook she gave me. When I make them it brings me back to my childhood.

[magpie]

Yes - eating real food and remembering your parents standing over the stove - good memory makers.

I'm intrigued by the polenta squares. Would you post the recipe? What do you put them in the lunchbox with?

[Julie Bo Boolie]

There are certain tastes, no matter how vile that will always be nostalgic for me and bring me great comfort in times of sadness. It's like a long distance hug.

[Rosebud & Papoosie Girl]

Once again you are so right. What kids remember from our wonderful vacations and even daily memories are not necessarily what I would hand-pick or even expect them to remember. It is not to say they don't remember the rest, because they do, but it is what they light up for.

Our wonderful day downtown...the transfer machine at the subway, our trip to Myrtle Beach...finally getting to go to IHOP after seeing it on Wheel of Fortune for months. It is those little, bizarre, seemingly unimportant details that they cherish. The same goes with food it seems.

[Nowheymama]

I love your resolution! K. still remembers with joy the time she got to eat in my husbands' work cafeteria--TWO YEARS AGO.

[Lisa b]

Now I am nostalgic for the chocolate cake with jam and the coins hidden in it.
Please may I have the recipe for polenta squares?

[Kyla]

I've always loved my dad's spaghetti and my mom's cinnamon rolls. My dad also used to make open peanut butter and cheese toasted sandwiches, weird, but YUM.