Christmas in the Kitchen

There are lots of Christmas memories that involve food. Tantalizing aromas wafting out of the kitchen and working in the kitchen with my sisters doing what we all had down pat after years of having our assignments for the feast. But memories of Christmas in the kitchen would not be complete without lots of laughter. Some of the most memorable ones involve disasters averted. Here are two.

Mother read somewhere, we never knew where, that the best way to heat brown and serve rolls was in a brown paper sack in the oven to keep them fresh and moist. So…she did that, but apparently skipped a step. Soon smoke was billowing out of the oven. I opened the oven door, wet towel in hand to douse the burning bag. Mother grabbed another towel and tried to blow out the flames by fanning the towel. Luckily I got them out with the wet towel before she managed to set my hair on fire. My nephew Patrick took part of the charred remains of the bag to put in a baggie as a memento of the Christmas eve that Grandma tried to burn down the house. Mother insisted the rolls tasted fine – she was right if you liked more than a hint of smokiness to your dinner rolls.

The second episode occurred because after years of peeling, what seemed like ten pounds of potatoes, Mother found a way to make boxed instant potatoes taste like the peeled thing. Christmas Eve she instructed me to put sour cream in the potatoes. When I asked how much, she said to “just use what’s in the refrigerator”. I did and she was right, the result was delicious “real” potato taste.

Christmas morning I went over to her house early to make the hash brown potato casserole only to discover that one of those cartons of sour cream was supposed to be saved for the next morning’s brunch. I called my sister Lisa who was still at the hotel to have her pick up sour cream on the way over. Mother lived in a small town where there was only a convenience store open that morning. Lisa called in a panic, no sour cream but they did have several cartons of French onion chip dip. She bought all they had. Mother stayed out of the kitchen, although she wondered what was going on with all the whispering and phone calls. We skipped the onions in the recipe and added the dip. We stuffed the empty cartons in the bottom of the trash bag and immediately took it out to the garage.

When the brunch was over Mother proclaimed that was the best casserole she’d ever made, not that she made this one……we might have gotten away with it but I started laughing and it became contagious. When we were laughing to tears, we finally confessed what the special secret ingredient was. Unfazed, Mother simply announced she would always use French onion chip dip from now on. It was pretty tasty!

Wishing you and yours all the blessings of this Season and may your only disasters turn out to be tasty!