| SPAGHETTI FARM |
| Abe hopped outta bed one mornin’ with a great idea. Yep, he finally figured out what ta do with that old piece o land what were left after his folks got boxed in by that kangaroo court. His dad told him that he could have it if he could find a use for it. There was a lot o dirt, but not in a useable fashion. It was a lot ten feet wide and a mile long. [yep, you can see what’s coming] With a large sack of macaroni in his backpack and some elbow macaroni in a bag he was a carryin’, Abe headed fer the field. Since he twern’t sure how deep ta plant the stuff, he only did a small test bed. Over the next few weeks he watched his new crop closely. There was activity, but it seemed like it was taking a long time. He called his local creamettes dealer and sought some advice. Armed with this advice, but having little funds at the moment, he headed for the local store and picked up a few jars of generic sauce. The crop came in, but it was uneven and rather pale. Well, at least now he knew the idea was feasible, so he could invest more and do it right. This time he planted the whole field. Worry lines blurred his vision because now the rainy season had hit. Throwing on his boots and hat, Abe headed for the shed. He gathered up all the extension cords available and strapped the air compressor on his back. Ironically, he did have enough line. Starting at the far end, he hosed his field down with dry air. This time he purchased Ragu, instead of the generic stuff. Did the trick; his crop was coming in straight and stiff as a board, just like it should. He started to pick it by hand, but was soon overloaded. He jumped into his truck and headed for the IHOP store. (IHOP – I harvest only pasta, the pancake place is on the other side of town). Abe’s half-brother (the one that got the smarts, the other half, was all brawn and spent his life mowing grass), worked as a foreman on one of their fields. He stopped at the office to see if Jake was there or out in the fields. As luck would have it, his lanky half-brother just walked in. He asked Jake if he could borrow their spaghetti picker for the weekend. Saturday morning Abe was awakened by the chug, hic, chug of the machinery. Jake was a real good spaghetti picker operator, and a great foreman, but a lousy mechanic. “Just as long as this pile o’ junk lasts through the harvest season, is all I care about. Then we’ll drop it off at the garage to get tuned up for next year.” Abe’s field wasn’t that big, so it did not take long to have a truckload of prime spaghetti. However, he would have to wait until Monday morning for the buyer to be at the plant. The check wasn’t the biggest he had ever seen, but it would get him through the winter months. Come spring he could get his crop in early and maybe pull two crops before summer ended. If the weather held, he may even be able to pull in three, but that was doubtful. He cashed the check and headed for the store to lay in supplies for winter. “Good thing Mable puts up all those vegetables, and preserves. From what she said, Uncle Frank had an excess supply of potatoes this year also. I may survive yet,” he thought to himself as he headed towards the home place. Winter was a little shorter than normal and the spring was cooler and wetter than usual. He got his crop in, but the weather just did not cooperate. When it was ready to harvest, it did not come out nice and straight. The poor growing season had caused the stuff to come out almost flat. He knew that it was not worth trying to sell, so he just decided to use what he could of it as seed for the next crop. After all was said and done, his stockpile of seed wasn’t quite enough. His finances were getting low and he was running on empty as far as ambition was concerned. This was a very disappointing crop. But, Dad taught him to persevere and be resourceful. He started scavenging through the home place to see what he had that he could augment the seed with. The first find was a couple bags of elbow macaroni. It was getting’ to be slim pickin’s around home. He went to the pantry and buried on the floor behind some potato boxes was a half dozen sacks of egg noodles. It wasn’t spaghetti seed, but it was pasta. He threw it in the mix. Being a farmer by nature, he automatically wrote down how much of each he used. Might need the combination, if the weather fouled up his crop again. Abe jumped on the ol’ lawn tractor (how else would a person tend a field that’s only ten feet wide?), and got the land ready for planting. After the last crop, he made sure there was plenty of Ragu in the ground to ensure that the new harvest would have plenty of nourishment. After the last soggy mess he harvested, he decided to add a little bit of cornstarch to the fertilizer mixture. Limp spaghetti is hard to harvest and even harder to sell. He had tried the drying bins, but that just made the stuff dry and limp. Nope, good spaghetti is stiff as a board. “Hey, that’s it! I know what is missing.” It wasn’t easy, but he pulverized a few boards and got enough sawdust to cover the field. “There, that should aid in hardening the stuff. The weather was holding, at least for a while. Just about an even balance of sun and moisture. Maybe this crop will turn out better. With the weather cooperating, he does not need to spend all of his time babysitting the field. He heads over to Mabel’s place to visit. As he pulls into the yard, one of the chickens runs in front and jumps in the window. “Friendly cuss,” he thinks. But before he can think of anything else, the family rooster dives in after the poor hen. Man what a racket! He covers his head as the poor hen tries to make her escape. He opens the door and jumps out, followed by a streak of white. How was poor Abe to know that the hen was having a bad feather day and just wanted to be left alone? The animals were out, but a quick look inside and their calling card was all over. The _expression, ‘mad as a wet hen’, now made sense. If this is how they were dry, he would hate to see them after a rainstorm! He would clean the truck out when he got home. Mabel was just pulling in on her tractor . “Howdy,” she shouted. “How’s the crops doin’.” “Well, this has been a difficult year for corn, so tried planting spices. Heard they like this kind of weather. Besides, since they grow fast, might be able to get in a couple of crops this year. IHOP has said if they are good enough, they would prefer to buy locally.” Entering the house the aroma of mixed spices filled the air. “Ned decided to put the first crop up. Never know when a body might need ‘em.” Mabel said. After a pleasant visit, Abe headed back to the home place. Before getting all the way home, he made a small detour to check the field. “What the heck? This stuff is worse than the last crop! Who in their right mind wants flat spaghetti, especially this wide, and it is wrinkled too” This was the strangest looking stuff he had ever seen. It was too late now to dig it up and start over, might as well give it a few days to mature. He headed back to his truck, still shaking his head. He had made sure the land was good and even. He took a soil sample with him. He tested it at the house, plenty of nutrients. Guess I have a lot to learn about this business. A few days later, he went out and started gathering up this strange spaghetti. “Well, I can’t sell this stuff, so might as well try eating it.” He threw a pan of water on to boil. It was stiff like spaghetti, so that was a good sign. He threw a handful in the hot water. “Hmm, it has the same consistency.” But, after tasting it, he realized it was true to form, flat looking and flat tasting. He was about to throw the whole batch out the back door when he spotted the preserved spices and vegetables he had gotten from Mabel. He opened a jar of tomatoes and another of peppers. Adding some salt and pepper, he tasted it. Well it was better, but still did not quite make it. On the table was a jar of the spices Mabel had put up. He opened it and threw in a handful. “Hmm, getting closer, but there is still something lacking.” It was at times like this when he envied Ned, Mabel’s husband. That woman could turn a board fence into a meal fit for kings. He threw his concoction into the truck and headed for her place. Pulling up in front, and honkin’ his horn on that ole beatup’ truck, he yelled, “Hey, Mabel ya all just gots to help me, please!!” “Settle your bones down boy fore ya have a heart attack, I’ll fetch some coffee and we’ll work it out. Here have a slice of pie, nothing like soothing the nerves with a taste of cinnamon.” As the coffee washes down the sweet nectar of pie, he tells Mabel what he did and why. Her and Ned both think he might just have hit on something here, just needs a little a thought and doctoring up. So Mabel starts dragging a few things out while Abe jots it down on a brown bag. ” Son we got to add more spice and got to thicken this up. Now we’s gonna need a little color too so get that there cottage cheese out of the ice box. Now let me think a minute or two, we can’t just throw it all in a pot, got to make use of all them noodles you got. Wait a minute boy, ya know what, why if ya had a little meat ya would have the whole meal.” She grabbed the ground beef out of the icebox and browned it off in a skillet. “Old woman what in the world ya gonna do with all this?” Abe jumps up like he’s got ants in his pants and says. “Mabel how about in layers like the crop I did?” So in the secret of her big ole kitchen they came up with a pretty good dish. But the top was a little dry so Ned whispered in her ear. The next dish was pure bliss; they had come up with a taste out of this world. “But wait a minute boy,” Ned said. “I think ya better talk to Uncle Walt fore any body gets wind of this” (uncle Walt is the family business head). So with a sample in his hand Abe took off for town. It only took one taste to convince his uncle. Uncle Walt advises him to rent that little deli on the corner by his office and offers to invest $1000.00 in supplies to get him started. He didn’t doubt his nephew had something big for the restaurant world. Business was good from the beginning. It was a good thing he had written down the mix he used to grow this stuff. Fortunately this kind of a crop did not need a lot of tending and grew fast. He had time to put in one more, before the end of the growing season. Uncle Walt, seeing the potential, had allowed Abe to use his unused back forty to plant another crop. He would need all he could get, to tide him over the winter months. If the venture paid off, he could invest in more land before next planting season. Business was real good. For the people who could or would not eat the meat, he would add extra vegetables. He expanded his menu with other variations. Sure enough it’s what all was a waiting for, and by the end of the year he had to expand. His flat spaghetti casserole had really caught on. The whole county had, at one time or another been in to try it. No tourist would dare to miss the hottest place in town. Sitting off in one of the booths, the stranger was eating and doodling on the napkins. He was not quite as hungry as he thought, so he put the remainder of his meal in a doggy bag. This was not an unusual occurrence because spaghetti casserole was very filling. About an hour later, the stranger came running back in. Abe gave him a cup of coffee to help calm him down. “What’s the matter? You didn’t like the meal?” “Like it? I loved it, and so did my cat! I had put it on the table while I grabbed a drink, and when I turned back to look, the cat had eaten most of what was on the plate! What do you call this stuff?” “Spaghetti casserole,” said Abe. “This tastes Italian, you need an Italian sounding name.” After an hour or so, the new name for the dish was changed. Thanks to the taste, and with the aid of the stranger, who turned out to be a cartoonist, his new dish became known far and wide. He had become known as “The Pasta King.” So with the help of his family, Abe accidentally invented the all American favorite known today as The Lasagna Dish!! Oh, and if there is any doubt who the cartoonist was, just look for Garfield in your local paper. |