Grandma

     Grandmothers are generally associated with food and comfort. Or comfort foods even. Wonderful smells, things baking, breads, cinnamon, cookies, nutmeg, pancakes. All things that as adults we are cautioned to avoid as they will make us fat. Things that we don't often find at the contemporary restaurants that so many of us enjoy eating at. I have a personal love of Alexander's (an amazing steakhouse) but never think to myself 'I miss Grandma, I think I shall eat steak'. These days restaurants are bordering on minimalist while Grandma's kitchen was full of complexity. Whether the complexity came from the ingredients or from the layers of family interaction, rich it was. So many people can find a visual in the word Grandma. And the visuals vary so greatly but for most, it is a warm fuzzy feeling. Some Grandmas had grey hair and wore polyester, others were giant and warm while still others were tiny and made exotic foods that one couldn't always pronounce but still loved to eat. It is rare that the term 'Grandma' (or whatever one calls her) brings on an unpleasant feeling and for those who experience that portion of childhood, I'm sorry. I would have gladly shared mine and she would have gladly shared herself.
     As we come near the 2nd anniversary of my Grandmother's death, I decided I'd like to share some of my favorite Grandma meals and moments. This would be my mother's mother, the white side. (yes, I consider my American side to be white while my Persian side is...not) A tiny bit of less long winded history of her is that she grew up in Ohio in a Mason family. For me that sums it all up, please contact me for further explanation if necessary.
     I have this deep, almost instinctual, desire to eat what is called 'German' pancakes. I have had moments where I have contemplated giving up vanity and health to eat this thing with abandon. I remember an amalgam of childhood breakfasts at a place called Ken's House of Pancakes on El Camino in Mountain View where everyone had to order this amazing volcano of a pancake. I have had them since at The Original Pancake House but, as always happens with memories, not the same. Giant craters full of butter, lemon juice and powdered sugar. This is something my grandparents took us to but Grandma got the recipe for and made at home. Long before she passed, she gave me her pans and several recipes and I have yet to make one that comes even close to hers.
     Pies. She made amazing pies. Pumpkin. Pecan. Berry. All were super yummy. One would think, how is it possible for a pie not to be but as she got older, it became clear that is was possible. There is a fine line between pie that is sweet and pie that tastes like the bottom of the bowl of Grape-Nuts. (I clarify this by pointing out that Grape-Nuts are amazing but in serious need of sugar and dental insurance) Pie should not be crunchy unless nuts are involved and then I have to ask...what and why??
     As time went on, her food got weirder. As grand children and (I know this from experience) children, we all started to wonder what was coming next. Her yams were more marshmallow than starchy substance. Cookies began to look like horror movies with beheading. And then the day arrived...the day made me question chicken and eggs but also gave me an opportunity for revenge.
     My Aunt Paget and I had made a lunch appointment to see Grandma. It was planned. In Advance. No getting out of this. We figured there was strength in numbers. Keep one another entertained and the day will end soon enough. On the 40 minute drive there (at 11:00 am) we contemplated whether or not to stop and eat, knowing Grandam was making lunch. We even laughed while we tried to conjure up what would be on the menu. What simple fools we became. Nothing we could have imagined compared to what confronted us when we arrived. Hugs were given. Love was expressed. Then Grandma announced that she had made Hot Chicken Salad. For some of you, I don't know who and why, this may be something you have heard of but for us, No. Even my Aunt, her daughter, wasn't sure what was in store for us. The horror that ended up on our plates cannot be described except by my taste buds. They, to this day, with they could exit my tongue and move on. I know what this 'dish' was but I choose to let my taste buds give you the recipe as they see it.
Enjoy.

Take 1 whole sort of large chicken with bones and skin and all and put it into a large pot. Add enough mayonnaise to submerge the chicken. Boil the shit out of it.
Take the chicken out of the mayonnaise and remove the bones and skin but keep the mayo (god forbid that should be lost)
Put the chicken and mayo gook in a casserole dish and add several boiled eggs. Cover with a crust of crushed Ruffles potato chips.
Bake until totally gross.
Serve with sliced (untoasted) Wonder bread.
Puke and repeat.

The revenge was that both my Aunt and I said we had a large breakfast and to save the leftovers for my mom!! Take that!! I win!