Rev. Erudite Redneck, B.S., B.S., M.A., M.Div.

Before I even married my lovely bride two summers ago, I recognized a significant difference in how raisin' works in one's taste buds.

In my family, we were all about the spices. Sweets came with deserts not with the meal, unless, of course, it was sweet tators or sweet corn, which are just grown that way. My momma liked pepper, the kind she ground herself, preferably, but she'd sprinkle it out of the can if need be.

Onions were for flavor, and the better they were cooked, the better they tasted.

My father wasn't much for ketchup, not even brandishing it on his burgers and asking for his Quarter Pounder with Cheese at McDonald's to be sans ketchup. Mustard was a fine condiment to him. No need to sweeten it with the red stuff.

My wife's family, though, has a large bottle of ketchup at every meal. My father-in-law puts ketchup on his pizza -- huh? you rightfully ask -- and spaghetti and plain noodles and beans. Pretty much anything edible is better with ketchup, he says.

On the weekend I asked my father- and mother-in-law for their blessing to marry my lovely wife, I had dinner with them in their home, and my bride's brother and family were there, too. We had homemade roast beef, mashed tators, creamed corn and the most wonderful noodles you can imagine. I added a dash of salt and a couple of dashes (maybe four) of pepper, since my lovely mother-in-law doesn't cook with spices, and commenced to some good eatin'.

My brother-in-law commenced to pilin' all his food into the center of his plate, then pouring gobs of ketchup -- I'd reckon 6-8 ounces of ketchup -- onto the top. He then took his fork and mixed it all together.

I heaved a little, then averted my eyes so the whole delicious meal didn't come back up on me.

At some point before our nuptials, I decided to make my patented -- OK, my mother's patented -- goulash for my wife. While I was on the other side of the kitchen, I overheard some spraying, then turned to look at this wonderful woman pouring SUGAR into my mother's patented goulash. I rolled my eyes but said nothing.

I stirred in a little pepper, then went about doing other things with my back to the burner. That's when I heard the unbelievable "squirt." This woman that I love not only tried to ruin my mother's patented goulash with sugar, but she then squirted half a container of ketchup into the formerly tasty meal. I couldn't believe it.

"What in the hell are you doing to my goulash?" I begged.

"I'm adding ketchup for flavor," she said.

"Goulash has plenty of flavor and doesn't need ketchup or sugar or anything else that would take the goulash out of goulash," I snapped.

"But I make my goulash with ketchup and sugar," she responded.

"But we're not making YOU'RE goulash, are we? We're making MY goulash, and MY goulash requires the absence of sweetness."

You see, in my family, we like a little spice and even some mild heat to our dishes. Mom's tator salad recipe is to die for, and it's as far from sweet as you can find.

My wife's family is all about the sweet, even if they do go through a case of ketchup a week. I love them all dearly and wouldn't trade them for the world, though.

To me, there's nothing better in this world than a well-prepared steak, cooked to order, with delicate spices massaged in before it sees a flame. I wouldn't dare spend a dime on A1 or Heinz 57 or ketchup, for that matter. My wife can't cook on the grill without lathering the fine foods in some sort of substance, much to my chagrin.

So on Mother's Day, when my mother-in-law prepared a wonderful, meat-filled lasagna for our lunch, I turned my head as my father-in-law bathed the tasty dish in ketchup. Of course, he turned his head when I took the lid off the pepper and began pouring scoops of it on mine.
 

Great tale, Teditor. ... That you remain married is a testament to your committment. ;-)

Gah. Ketchup is for two ... OK ... three things, mainly:

French fries.

A thin layrer on top of meat loaf -- only if carmelized.

A line down the middle of a hot dog is OK, but not necessary.

And a little on an otherwise unspeiced hamburger is OK.

Bird used to go through ketchup and ranch dressing and sour cream like it was ... beer. :-) Still does, probably. But, she long ago discovered ... beer. :-)
 

One of the best pieces I ever read (obviously, since it sticks with me to this day) was an Ann DeF. article about a noon meal set out for the wheat harvest. It was very much like this one you link to, but you could feel the sweat coming off the sweet tea glasses. Oh my good lord, it was fine food and fine writing.

This is really what I intended my whole blog to be about, was the food-relationships link that holds the world together. Pioneer Woman just does it so much better. Guess I should find me a rancher to marry... one that can live without ketchup.

Of all the things I left behind when I moved from OKC, the thing I miss most is my baby grand piano. The second thing I miss most is my dining room set where I fed so many friends.
 

I joke all the time about the "white food" my family ate. salt, butter, cream and ketchup were the flavors.

Ketchup isn't white, but everything else we ate was, practically.

Church pot-lucks consisted of various combinations of hamburger, tater-tots and cream-of-mushroom soup. Or maybe just mashed potatos or rice instead of the tater-tots.

to "spice things up" there would be 3-bean-salad...a concoction of vinegar, oil, and kidney beans, raw onion, lima beans and green beans...served cold. Nasty.

Imagine my surprise when I grew up, moved to Alabama, and discovered flavored food! :-)
 

Don't even get me started on the lime jello with shredded lettuce in it. blech.
 

Trixie, you got a friend in me! :-)


Teresa: Don't get me started about brocolli, vienna sausage, rice and Velveeta "casserole."

OMG. Excuse me while I hurl!

Apologies to Mama ER! That's the one thing she ever made that I turned my nose up at. She said she'd make when she wanted to be sure she, herself, would get enough to eat. :-)


And I am PROUD, as we mis-say in certain sections of the South, that youi got to eat Alabama vittles.

Reminds me of a "soul food" joint here in Oklahoma City -- which is most fefinately NOT the South -- that I drive by once in awhile. There's a sign out front that has the blue-plate special once in awhile. I se it and I think: That ain't woul food; them's just good vittles. :-)
 

ER,

"Teresa: Don't get me started about brocolli, vienna sausage, rice and Velveeta 'casserole.'"

Oh no you didn't!! You DID NOT ust try to one-up me in the disturbingly bland food story department!

You are dealing with a Minnesotan of Norwegian Descent who was raised LUTHERN!

Don't make me bring the Lutefisk, yo.
 

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam wonderful SPAM!

It wasn't just a Monty Python song when my dad was around.
 

Try being a southern Lutheran. (That's southern as in Virginia, Not Janesvile, WI.)
All the other (baptist) kids got fried chicken and taters'n gravy, watermelon. Not at our pot luck picnics: Nothing like drinking black coffee at a 90-degree 90-percent humidity picnic in July. My mom (of Pittsburgh German Lutheran heritage) brought her "Famous noodles and prunes". And for desert, ugh! Jello is a separate food group- and is to Lutherans what purgatory is to Catholics.
 

Upper Midwestern church supper food -- lime jello, the all-purpose dish. Covered with Miracle Whip it's a salad, covered with Cool Whip it's a dessert.
 

"Famous noodles and prunes"

"Lime jello, the all-purpose dish. Covered with Miracle Whip it's a salad"


Gross!

But then, people think I'm crazy for eatin' menudo, a taste that is a side-effect that comes with the habit of havin' a hangover in Texas.
 

And, I'm working at my desk eating beef jerkey and pork rinds for lunch. (Not regular fare; they just happened to be here. OK, I brought 'em here. But not for lunch. It just happens to be lunch time.) :-)
 

And -- LOL -- I happened to have both bacon and sausage with eggs, anf a biscuit and gravy, for breakfast today, rather than the usual Honey Nut Cheerios or banana (It was a work-related buffet) -- so I might be askin' for that famous noodles and prunes "hotdish" later! LOLOL
 

All a real redneck needs is vieenie wieners, saltine, and a strawberry Nehi.
My mother , God rest her soul, was one of the world's worst cooks. She used to sacrifice food rather than cook it. I mean as in burned. Under those conditions Catsup was a God send, Miracle whip was manna from heaven, and bacon grease at least gave everything the same taste even if the texture was different.

The up-shot of that upbringing was that I like dang near everything set before me these days, except curry and sushi.
P.S. I use ketchup/catsup on nothing now.
 

After explaining how my wife can ruin good food with ketchup and other sweet delights, I must mention our steaks from two nights ago.

While I was busy mowing, my wife manned the grill, as it were. She made ribeyes and KC strips, and all she used was a little seasoning.

I'm very, very proud of her.
 

there is hope or teditor's marraige.

kidding :-)



Viennies, with mayo on whitebread. The cans come ready for three such viennie dogs, with one left over.
 

As long as you don't tell people exactly what's in menudo most folks will eat it and love it. Soon as you make the mistake of explain what tripe is seems like the previously uninitiated lose interest.
 

The same is generally true of mescal. :-)