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Tag Archives: Food

Good Kid Discount

Today I read an article on “Shine from Yahoo” about a restaurant that gave a “Well Behaved Kid Discount”: http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/restaurant-gives-family-discount-having-well-behaved-kids-192500505.html. I was very impressed that a restaurant did this, and yet I know some very well behaved kids myself whose parents should have been receiving this discount for years.

My great nephew Lukas and great niece Nicole are amazing kids. Their parents can be a bit strict, but the pay off is huge! Every  moment I’ve spent with their children, I have found pleasant. Every time I’ve taken them to a restaurant has been a dream come true:

  • They do not whine about the wait
  • They read the menu and make good selections
  • They entertain themselves while waiting for the meal
  • They talk with me about life and school
  • They gladly take home any leftovers
  • They never talk bad about anyone in the restaurant or any food they didn’t really like
  • They always say “please” and “thank you” throughout the adventure

There was one interesting time eating with Lukas (about five-years old) that I will never forget. All of the above was true, but there was a twist. Before taking him to a late lunch, we had spent the morning at “Ag Days” which used to come to a local mall. There were farm animals to pet, all of the details about dairy cows and chickens, tables explaining gardening and canning, samples of locally grown foods, and much more.

After our festive morning, I took him to eat at the local Big Boy on his way home. After ordering burgers, we talked about what we’d seen in the morning and some of the take aways he was given (the people had been super nice to him and made it fun). Then, our food came. You know, cow meat. But he’d just pet a cow and her baby. He took one look at that sandwich and asked me where the meat on it came from. I told him the truth. He laid the patty aside and put it under a napkin.

Lukas ate all the rest of his meal that day, minus the patty. He never complained or asked for a different meal. He just ate what remained on his plate – a cheese sandwich with fries. I don’t believe he’s taken issue with meat since, but I will never forget his gentle manners that sunny afternoon when he was sad to learn about where our meat comes from and what it looks like before the meal.

Morale of the Story: My great niece and nephew are awesome, and their parents have given this world two beautiful, irreplaceable gifts I count as blessings daily. Talk about well behaved kids? I can do it all day long.

 
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Posted by on February 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Not Even in the Meatloaf

I was raised on the family farm. This farm included dairy cows, pigs, apples, and peaches. What a wonderful place to learn of life’s sorrows and joys, hard work and festive play.

One such joy is the food on the farm. Well, it’s also a sorrow – because I don’t enjoy gardening nor preparing my own meat. Fortunately, mom took care of the gardening after I repeatedly pulled out all of the carrots while weeding. Also, dad sent the cows and pigs to a local meat processor so it came back in nice little packages for the freezer.

It was delightful to grow up on our own beef, pork, veggies, milk, peaches, and apples. All were deliciously prepared by my mom’s loving hands after being nurtured by my father and brother.

Eventually, as is common in Michigan, the deer in our area became too numerous, and hunting needed to be done. The deer were eating the crops – both for cow feed and my brothers fruit trees. In being thankful for the opportunity to hunt on our land, hunters would give us the gift of deer meet.

This is where the problem comes in. I was raised on home-grown cow. The meat is smooth and tasty. Not grainy like liver can be. To me deer meat is grainy. Also, it’s raised more on corn and wheat. Not as much hay. That makes it more gamey.

All others in our house enjoyed deer meat. Well, so far as I can tell, they like ALL meat. But this is about deer. So my mom tried to hide it.

Let’s just say that I can taste it and find the texture of it even in meatloaf that is 1/3 sausage, 1/3 cow burger, and 1/3 deer burger. I can detect the undesirable texture in well seasoned spaghetti or lasagna. I can identify it in potent chili. There’s no disguise that worked. To me, it’s not palatable.

If you like it, you’re always welcome to my portion. Please!

Morale of the Story: Sometimes you just can’t hide anything.

 
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Posted by on January 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Lessons from Grandma

As a child, I was blessed with lots of time with my maternal Grandma. She was my most treasured and closest friend. We usually got along like cookies & milk. She was the cool and refreshing milk to my high strung sugar cookie.

“No” was not a word I associated with her. Perhaps she’d say, “not now”. That was pretty harsh coming from grandma. Her love was constant, her hugs ever present, and her heart bigger than her body. She taught me to use my imagination. She would tell me stories and listen to mine in turn (hers true, and mine pure fiction). I still smile at the mere thought of her.

My mom had two issues with her mother, both because grandma taught me very bad things. The first was to love lobster, and the second to appreciate Fannie May chocolates. Both very expensive things to desire out of life. And yet, these were the most expensive things grandma enjoyed. Money was never abundant, but love and humor were constants. Grandma taught me to enjoy lobster with butter and Fannie May chocolates with a thumbnail indent in the bottom.

Why would I enjoy chocolates with a thumbnail print pressed into the bottom? Because this was before the box had a much desired map guiding you through the decadent experience. Thereby, her small mark in the bottom center of each candy delight revealed the flavor. I would gladly eat the ones with that print left in it – so long as I liked the it. Grandma was my chocolate guide. Besides, I’d be hollered at if I did that. It was considered cute when grandma did it.

Our one disagreement arose whenever I was with her around 6 p.m. I would beg her to let me watch the Muppet Show. She would remind me of the importance of staying aware of the news in our community. I would beg her again and again to watch the Muppet Show. Eventually, she would make a quacking sound that I still hear as if it were yesterday. That quack meant that it was okay to change the channel, and I could watch the Muppet Show in her precious lap. Both of us delighted to be together.

There is nowhere better than to be in Grandma’s lap and surrounded by her love.

Morale of the Story: Life’s more fun without a map in the box of chocolates.

 
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Posted by on September 18, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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