Wednesday, November 21, 2012

White Sauce and Defiance


Tomorrow, many of us will celebrate Thanksgiving by eating an array of bountiful and delicious foods. 


         And so today, I’d like to post one of the few stories I can remember about a family meal. It took place on an autumn evening in November 1944 when I was eight and in the third grade.
         The rule for family meals was that all four of us ate everything that was put on our plate. Mom dished up the food and passed it down the table, which was rectangular. At each end, sat Mom and Dad. My little brother and I sat next to one another on one long side. The opposite long side was against the dining-room wall.
         On this particular evening, Mom passed Dad his plate. Then mine came down the table: meat, potatoes, a slice of buttered bread, and a mound of cauliflower hidden underneath some white stuff.
         “What’s this?” I asked.
         “White sauce. You’ve never had it before, but I think you’ll like it.”
         “Looks like paste.”
         “Try it.” She passed my brother his plate and then dished up hers.
         I eyed the paste. “I’m not eating this.”
         “Dolores, you know the rule. We eat everything on our plate.”
         “Not tonight.”
          “You’ll sit there until you do, Young Lady.”
         The meat tasted as good as mother’s cooking always tasted. The boiled potatoes with butter were delicious as was the bread and butter. The paste congealed.
         Time passed. Mom excused my little brother from the table when he had gobbled down his supper. Dad ate his meal, settled in his easy chair, and read the newspaper.
         Mom removed everything from the table except my plate, glass, and cutlery. Then she sang as she did the dishes. That night the strains of a Cole Porter song drifted into the dining room.
         More time passed. I stared at the wall. From the living room came the laugher of the “Fibber McGee and Molly” radio audience. After the program ended, I looked to my right and saw my brother playing with his Lincoln logs. Mom played solitaire. Dad read.


         For long minutes, I stared at the paste, my elbows on the table holding up my drooping head. Then I tried my defiance again. “Mom, I’m not going to eat this stuff.”
         “Don’t argue, Dolores. You know our family rule about food.”
         “I’m sleepy, Mom. Can’t I go to bed?”
         “When you eat everything on that plate.”
         More time passed. Dad went to bed. My brother fell asleep on the living room floor and Mom carried him to our bedroom. I sat, my head sinking lower.
         The next I knew, I was opening my eyes to a strange view—the rim of the plate. I lifted my head from where it rested on the cauliflower.
          “Mom, can I go to bed now?”
         “When you eat what’s left on your plate.”
         I grimaced as I ate the sauce-covered cauliflower, which was cold. It did taste like paste. Only saltier.
         “I did it,” I announced sleepily. “Can I go to bed now?”
         “You may.”
         I rose from the table, carried my dishes into the kitchen, and went to kiss my mother goodnight. When I leaned over her, she said, “Dolores, some white sauce is sticking to your cheek. Why don’t you go and wipe it off with the dishrag?”
         I scrubbed my face clean of the accursed mess and afterward crawled into bed and slept.
         The upshot of this is that I ate all the white sauce Mom served in the years that followed, but I’ve never been a fan of creamed peas or fettuccini Alfredo or melted white cheese. All pasty.

Postscript
·      On Black Friday, I want to say “Thank-you” to the Universe for the many blessings of my life. So that day, I’m offering on Amazon free e-book copies of A Cat’s Life: Dulcy’s Story and A Cat’s Legacy: Dulcy’s Story (which used to be entitled Twelve Habits of Highly Successful Cats and Their Humans).
·      If you have an e-reader and would like to read one or both, please download them on Friday. And if you have friends who love felines and other animals or who would be interested in the philosophy of a cat and her human, please let those friends know about this offer.
·      As you know, all they need do is click under the two covers that are displayed on the right-hand side of this blog.
·      Also, my niece Melissa and my blogging buddy Elisa have helped me establish a Facebook fan site. Elisa suggested I add the following code here to let you know about it. I’m not at all sure about Facebook nor exactly what a “fan” page is, but I’ll give it a try. 



All photographs are from Wikipedia.

49 comments:

  1. My sister hated macaroni and cheese and toasted cheese sandwiches when she was a child. I have memories of her sitting at the table long after the rest of us finished. She would get beaten with a belt but never ate them. Today she loves both of them. Go figure... Good story!

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    1. Dear DJan, I hate to think of your sister being beaten with a belt because she wouldn't eat Macaroni and Cheese. I wonder sometimes, if parents think about what they'd feel like if someone beat them. But maybe someone did when they were little and they just think such punishment is normal and natural. Peace.

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  2. Too bad there wasn't a microwave around then to heat up the white sauce.

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    1. Dear Linda, I think a microwave might have made all the difference at the end! Peace.

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  3. Isn't it funny how times have changed on the "clean plate" policies! I had similar experiences, at least with being required to finish what was on my plate. I watch my daughter with her two children go in the opposite direction. Sometimes I think it's too lenient, but times have definitely changed. I think we were brought up with families much more concerned about not having waste, don't you think? I hope you have a love cream-less dinner tomorrow, Dee! No white sauce anywhere! :-) And you are so generous to include your e-books. I am going to share with a few friends...of course, I already gave the book to a couple of my true feline loving friends! :-) And I just "liked" you on FB! Tee-hee!

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    1. Dear Debra, I suspect you're right about our families being more concerned about not wasting food. This was 1944 and so the hard days of the depression were fresh in their minds. Beyond that, my dad drink away the food money and my grandmother sent out "care" boxes to us and so what we had was mostly all we could afford plus what grandma sent. So no wasting. Peace.

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  4. Ugh. I know your mom must have been a wonderful cook, but anything pasty-like would make me begin a fast. Great descriptions! I already have your two lovely books, but I'm going to pass your offer on to others. And I liked your FB page!

    Happy Thanksgiving!

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    1. Dear Shelly, thanks for passing the offer for the e-books along to your friends. I'm glad you like the FB book (I didn't know until you used FB that I could shorten it and be understood. I'm not a texter!) I'm still confused about the whole process, but I did like seeing the snippets about you and the storm on my FB. I hope all is well now and no damage was done. Peace.

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  5. I remember my dad sitting with me once until I ate the last pea on my plate, I left you a comment on FB--& I liked your page!!

    HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

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    1. Dear Fishducky, one pea. As Debra says in her comment above, our parents really had lived through a hard time and the motto became "waste not, want not." I still find myself being frugal in many ways. Thanks for leaving the comment on FB and I'm glad you liked the page. I'm trying to figure the whole thing out. Peace.

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  6. I could have told the same story. We were never allowed to waste food and we would have to sit at the table until everything was gone. My older sister, the saint, always had a way of spreading her food around her plate so that it looked like she ate most of it. I, on the other hand, used to voice my opinion and spent many a day sitting at the table until it was it was time to go to bed.

    I wish you the best of luck on Facebook. Sometime this weekend I will get on your site and "friend" you.

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    1. Dear Arleen, one of the best things about blogging is discovering the kinship we have with others who have had the same experiences as ours. So I'm glad to know that you and I share this same story.

      I look forward to your visit to FB. I don't know how to go to people's FB and "friend" them. I need to learn how to do that. Peace.

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  7. I am not a fan of FB, but I am in the minority with that.

    All creamed veggies have always seemed gross to me, as is any flour or cornstarch in food, so....

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    1. Dear Mary, I'm not sure I'm a fan of FB either. I'm still trying to figure the whole thing out. It all seems fairly confusing to me.

      As to creamed veggies.....I'm with you! Peace.

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  8. I was always sent to bed without supper on meatloaf night b because I wouldn't eat it. Nobody believed it made me sick, but now I know why: onions. I have a sensitivity to onions. I think going to bed early was better than sitting at the table till you ate paste. I "liked" you on Facebook.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Dear Janie, I suspect that in the not too distant past, most people didn't realize that children could be allergic to many things besides nuts and fish.

      Thanks for "liking" me on FB. (I just learned from today's comments to use those initials!!!! I guess that's for texting--which I don't do. If I can figure it out, I'll go to your FB and "like" you. Of course, you know that I'm liking you all the time! Peace.

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  9. New follower...this made me laugh. I dislike lima beans AND facebook. Sorry.

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    1. Dear loonysuse, thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the story enough to return. Unlike you, I do like lima beans, and the jury is out to lunch on FB. I suspect we all have a food or two.... or four that just doesn't taste right or feel right in our mouth. Nor did it please our sense of sight! Peace.

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  10. Hi Dee! Can I download your books here in the UK? I had to have my beloved Charlie-girl cat put to sleep last Wednesday, and am missing her something terrible (but she was 16 and very poorly, so it was the kindest thing to do), and I need something 'catt-ish' to help fill the gap. As we're getting on in years, and have 2 dogs (miniature poodles) I doubt whether I'll be able to have another cat - but then, I said that last time, before Charlie came to us at the age of 10!!

    Have a great Thanksgiving.

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    1. Dear Helva, so far as I know, you can download the books in the UK.

      I'm sorry to learn that you had to put your Charlie-girl to sleep a week ago. That is always one of the hardest things we must do when we decide to share our lives with companion animals. But all the joy they give us makes up for any sorrow.

      The books are available for 24 hours on Friday. Please let me know if you do get to download them. Peace.

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  11. Great story for the holiday. No Facebook for me, Dee but I wish you well.
    Have a happy and healthy Thanksgiving.

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    1. Dear Pam, thanks for the well-wishes for FB. I'm going to need them because I'm all out at sea about the whole process. With blogging I know how to visit other blogs to thank them for visiting mine. But with FB, I don't know how to do that. I hope this long weekend is being enjoyable for you and filled with possibilities for many good photographs of nature in Florida. Peace.

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  12. Bless your heart. Your delightful story was so familiar. It was corn beef hash that kept me long at the table. I also quickly learned that nasty food is the least nasty when warm.
    Thank you so much for the Friday offer. I all ready have the first and will get the other, also will tell my friends with Kindles. Thank you so much.
    I lost a much loved cat two weeks ago. Mickey was 17 and I had bottle fed him before his eyes were opened. Not sure he was ever totally aware he was a cat. Sure wish the Lord would have given them longer life spans but am grateful for the time we do get to share with them.
    Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

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    1. Dear Arkansas Patti, I'm gladdened that you've stopped by to visit again. My back is doing well since I took your advice about how I sit at the computer. Thank you for that posting. And you are so right, warm food that meant to be served warm tastes so much better when it's been "nuked."

      I'm sorry to learn that you lost Mickey. To have bottle fed him when he was so young and then to have lived with him for 17 years of your life is to experience a great loss of presence in your home. Like you, I am so grateful that I've gotten to live with cats whose company has enriched my life. We are so blessed to be loved by animals. Peace.

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  13. We have all had our battles with white sauces, but I liked yours the best.

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    1. Dear Susan, thank you for sharing that you've had battles also. I want made a recipe--only once--that called for white sauce and that too was a disaster. The two of us--sauce and human--are certainly not meant for one another. Peace.

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  14. I've never been a friend of creamed anything, either. But, being a child of the 30's, I was eager to eat anything that filled that empty space in my stomach.

    I also recall the satisfaction I got from white, gooey Wonder Bread and Van Camp's pork and beans made into a sandwich. From the nutritious standpoint, I wouldn't touch that today but looking at it from the love and comfort level, I often yearn for it. Memories are weird, huh.

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    1. Dear Manzanita, how wonderful to have a comment from you. I hope that all is going well and I so enjoyed reading your latest post and discovering that all is well in your life. That sandwich sounds like a favorite of yours. I myself really enjoy peanut butter and cranberry sauce together. And yes, love and comfort comes from that kind of well-loved and remembered food. Peace.

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  15. Asparagus was my nemesis as a child. One time I grossed myself out over it so much I trew it back up, and never was forced to eat it again.

    I try to remember that when attempting to get the kids to eat things they don't like.

    Strangely, I like Asparagus now.


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    1. Dear Michelle, I didn't care for asparagus either as a child, but I can remember Mom serving it only once. Now, like you, I like it--lots! Throwing up puts me off of any food that didn't stay down long. So I feel for you as a child. Peace.

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  16. Your story brings back many childhood memories of problems with food. I hated almost all vegetables and would use my milk in order to swallow them whole. There was one very long afternoon in the dark sitting in front of a plate of some glop my parents were insisting I eat. I honestly can't remember the outcome -- only that that method was never tried again! Happy Thanksgiving, Dee!

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    1. Dear Broad, all our parents must nearly pull out their hair getting us as children to try food. "Try it, you'll like it!" is the refrain most of us have heard. But your invention of swallowing in a mouthful of milk makes good sense to me! I needed to have tried that but I was allergic to milk and so mom didn't make me drink it straight. I could stomach a little on my porridge. Peace.

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  17. This is sooo hilarious! I could picture the whole thing. I love the details you added in about the radio show, solitaire and Lincoln logs.

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    1. Dear Elisa, thanks for noticing the details. Lincoln logs were so popular then as was "Fibber McGee and Molly." They were a very funny married couple--both on radio and in real life. Peace.

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  18. Dear Dee,
    I really like the name Dolores. I hope you have a nice day and Thanksgiving. Thank you for every thing you have done this year.
    Love,
    Ruby

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    1. Dear Ruby, I'm glad you like the name Dolores. I was called that by my family and school friends until I went away to college. It was there that friends began calling me "Dee."

      I had a lovely Thanksgiving. I hope that you did also. Peace and love from Dee and the cats--Ellie, Maggie, and Matthew

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  19. We had the same rule at our house when I was a kid and there are two things that stick out in my memory from that time. First, my parents were never as calm as your mother was - they would yell angrily at us to finish our food and we often faced the threat of a beating, too. I now understand that this stemmed from their own fears of control and lack, but at the time it was simply scary and authoritative. Second, my younger sister quickly learned that if she wanted to avoid helping clean up after dinner, all she had to do was refuse to eat something and sit at the table until the kitchen was clean before eating the remainder of her dinner. I used to get furious when she did this, but then I realized she was always eating cold food. Ick! Happy Thanksgiving, Dee! I hope your day is full of love and light.

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    1. Dear Kario, DJan in the first comment shared that her parents might beat her sister for not eating macaroni and cheese. And now you share that your parents yelled at you and might beat you if you didn't finish your food. So during this Thanksgiving season I have found another reason to be grateful for my parents: they didn't yell at my little brother and me and they didn't beat us. Every so often Mom would switch our legs with a cherry switch but that truly was seldom and we had to have done something that was dangerous. Happy Thanksgiving weekend to you too. And love and light always. Peace.

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  20. Ah, Dee, the war of wills that go on at the dinner table, even now, and the lifelong impact they have. I felt as if I was right there with you at the table the night of the creamed cauliflower. My father's rule was simply "take all you want, but eat all you take". As others have commented, it was more the idea of not wasting food coming from a generation that knew what it was like to be hungry. Our own rule with the girls was that they had to try one bite, which always worked (though the size of the bite was often amusing).

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    1. Dear Penny, I surely like your father's rule: "take all you want, but eat all you take." That makes so much sense to me. And the not wasting food truly did come from what our parents had lived through in the Depression. They did know what it was like to be hungry. I bet some of those bites your girls made were nibbles! Peace.

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  21. I think mine was peas, but I'm not sure. I had much more staying power than my parents, was even more stubborn than the both of those Swedes put together when I had my mind made up, had no problem thinking to myself for hours, and was a born night owl. I won. They never tried that again. ;)

    I just love your stories, Dee!! :) :)

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    1. Dear Rita, creamed peas. Uggh! I've known that you are one stubborn lady because only someone as stubborn as you could keep "trucking" through your physical ailments and keep your spirits as high for all of us who read your blog.

      I used to be a night owl as I became a teen-ager and young adult, but in the last few years, I need 9 hours of sleep and about 11:30 pm I find my eyes closing.

      I bet you flummoxed your parents a lot! Peace.

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  22. My mom had the same rule but my brother and I didn't like meat much. One time my mom made some weird greasy dish and both of us sat and sat. Finally my dad came along and asked my brother to please take a spoonful in his mouth. It took a split second for him to gag and vomit. My dad promptly told my mom that she had to stop insisting. She was also told to stick to foods kids like. TEAHHHH

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    1. Dear Heidrun, thank heavens your dad intervened. My mom mostly always made food that my little brother and I liked--especially macaroni and cheese and a wonderful one-layer yellow cake with brown sugar and coconut topping! Peace.

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  23. Dee, this post brought back vivid memories of the one battle of wills I had over food as a child. Growing up after WW2 when there was still food rationing in Britain, we were always expected to clear our plates and usually I did. But once my mother served us cow-heel and beef still warm, instead of cold with the jelly set, and I simply couldn't swallow it without gagging. Finally my mother persuaded my father that I wasn't just being naughty and I was allowed to leave the last bits.

    DH and I brought our children up not to waste food, but I agree that today patterns of behaviour have changed and many children seem to be allowed to pick and choose in a way my parents could never have understood.

    I'm not on FB, so can't 'like' your page or 'friend' you, I'm afraid and I also don't have an e-book reader. One day perhaps....

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    1. Dear Perpetua, gagging must be one of the worst feelings for anyone, especially children. I'm glad your dad listened to your mom. I can truly only remember this one incident where I rebelled against eating what Mom served. She was a creative cook and our meals, seasoned with conversation about what we'd each done that day, were wholly satisfying.

      Don't give a second thought to not having FB or an e-reader. I'm all confused about FB and not sure at all that I'll stick with it. As to the e-reader, who knows? Not now at least for me. Peace.

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  24. I guess everyone else ate the paste sauce. You were certainly a stubborn little one! I never forced my daughters to eat something that they didn't want, but I always encouraged them to try it. They are not overly finicky eaters, but my middle daughter still refuses to eat onions. And my wife is absolutely obstinate about trying certain things, even if everyone else is enjoying the food. Me? I'll try just about anything at least once.

    Lee
    Wrote By Rote

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    1. Dear Lee, I've grown to be a somewhat adventurous eater even though I've been a vegetarian for 31 years. I think Mom played a role in that because mostly the food she cooked tasted really good. But that white sauce just looked too much like paste for me to even try it!!! Dee

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  25. I cannot imagine eating cold congealed white sauce. You poor thing.

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