Reflecting upon my childhood,the Kitchen was the heart
of the home; a room where you could play
"jacks" on the floor on a rainy day. Or, after plenty
of newspapers were spread on the kitchen table, we
"fingerpainted" then displayed the artwork on the
fridge after it was dry.
I remember the smell of Christmas cookies,hot chocolate
on a cold day,Thanksgiving turkey. Also the fun of
pulling taffy, making cupcakes for school,playing Monopoly
with the whole family...these are some of the things I
remember.
I recall for many years the Sunday Morning Magic Act
my
Dad performed. He was attired in a silky bathrobe with
large deep pockets and long, wide sleeves. When we were
real little, he could make an apple disappear into thin
air! Getting older, we knew to check not only the pockets
but the sleeves too. Not long after these hideouts were
discovered, the "Disappearing Apple Trick" evolved into a
real mystery for us. Where was he hiding the apple ? We
were stumped! Years later we discovered our Saintly,
Sweet Mother was in cahoots with him. Apparently, we were
so distracted by his hand movements and intent on watching
the sleeves and pockets so carefully, he managed to slip
the apple to Mom who was always directly behind him
at the kitchen sink.
Dad had a warped sense of humor and enjoyed playing tricks
on Mom too. Let me tell you about the Mayonaise Cake
Scam.
He traveled out of town on business trips frequently
but always came home on weekends. One Saturday morning
he approached Mom and said,"Hey Hon, why don't you
bake us a cake for dessert tonite." She told him she
didn't have all the ingredients on hand and needed a few
things from the market. Dad said,"I think I could
throw a cake together with what you have in the fridge."
Mom, who was a very good cook, said it was absolutely
necessary to have eggs, milk, baking powder; certain
staples every cake required. Dad took out a jar of
Miracle Whip and told her he could whip up a cake just
as good as any she made from "scratch" using Miracle
Whip.
Mom thought this was hilarious and told him to
go right ahead and bake his cake. He didn't measure a
thing, but decided to add some flour and sugar to the
recipe. Mom was highly amused, until the tables were
turned...
The cake was moist and delicious. Dad was crowing
like a rooster over his "creation" using just a jar of
Miracle Whip and a few other things.
Granted, Mom did fall for his trap, but Dad had a guilty
looking grin on his face. We recognized that
grin that always gave him away. We badgered him until
he admitted finding the
Miracle Whip Cake Recipe in an out of town newspaper.
Give it a try,it's still delicious.
I learned how to dance in the kitchen, my parents taught
me. Mom loved to dance and sing. She even sang with
Tommy
Dorsey when she was younger. Dad prefered duplicate
bridge. They struck a happy medium by playing bridge one
weekend, then steppin'out and dancing the
next. Mom even used her Irish Charm to sway Dad
into taking dancing lessons at the Arthur Murray Dance
Studio. They learned it all; The Samba, Rhumba, Cha-Cha,
Tango, Jitter-bug. My folks had "the moves" and looked
great on the dancefloor.
So, after dinner,the dishes done, Mom cranked up the 45's
and the practicing began. Patty and I would be partners,
duplicating all their steps the best we could. There was
a lot of laughter and fun those evenings.
One night we noticed the next door neighbors peering at
us from their kitchen window. They had never been very
neighborly and kept to themselves, their kids were loners,
never played with the rest of the neighborhood gang. We
just went on dancing, paying little attention to them.
However, one evening we happened to look out our kitchen
window and what do you know ? They were dancing in
their kitchen...and having a great time too!