My Life in Food

I don’t know if it’s a “Southern Thang” or not, but my life has been one big foodfest.

I think back on the years leading up to now and I see a lot of food. Food in my family has always been connected with fun events. Well, except maybe funerals. Then again, we always manage to laugh and eat our way through the sad times, too.

My memories are flooded with church dinners, family holiday get-togethers, Uncle Dempsey’s butternut cakes, Aunt Bobbie’s mashed potatoes (the absolute best), family picnics and Pal’s hamburgers. When I get to heaven, I want a big bowl of those mashed potatoes waiting on me. (I don’t want them now — just save me some for later)

It seems like we were always eating or planning what to eat next.

Pal’s was a little hotdog and hamburger joint in the town where I grew up and it was about the only restaurant my mom would go to. Back in the day, they gave kids a hamburger for every “A” at report card time.  I don’t know if schools even give report cards now, but that’s another subject. I walked past there on my way home from school every day, and one particular report card time I got a whole bag of hamburgers. You can imagine who the big hero was that day as I carried my loot in and gave it to my mom. We had a hamburger supper that night. I’m sure we had a big ol pan of fried potatoes to go with them. (Pal’s has since grown into a chain of stores across the area, but I don’t think they give out free hamburgers any more)

Pizza came to town at a little bakery located on the other side of the highway from where I walked home. I remember the sign that announced their new offering and not knowing what the heck “pizza” was. (I had a time learning to pronounce the word) If it didn’t come from a garden or the Pal’s window, we didn’t eat it. Eventually we tried the new concoction and we liked it. Our friends, the Adinolfi’s, introduced us to authentic Italian food and the rest of that story is history too.

Young people today are missing out on so much — what are they gonna blog about when they get older?

I’m glad that I have all the memories to laugh about now. I’m not even concerned about telling my age through talking about all the “firsts” we experienced, from color tv to private line phones. I hope everybody’s memories are as fun as mine are. Every day wasn’t a walk on the funny farm, but I think the good far outweighed the bad.

It’s a good thing I married into a family that likes to eat as much as I do. Now, when’s the next get together?

I could sure go for a Pal’s hotdog right now.


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