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Swamprat reminded me of cinnamon toothpicks
did y’all make cinnamon or red hot toothpicks?
Yep. We had a few issues at school where they were just too hot and people had bad reactions.
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Swamprat reminded me of cinnamon toothpicks
did y’all make cinnamon or red hot toothpicks?
I have not seen the Tab thread but when I saw the title of this i was like “ohhh my aunt Debbie drinking Tab back in the 80’s” LOL.The TaB thread got me thinking about how only peoples’ aunts ever drank it.. Some others I remember are that my PawPaw was diabetic, so always had sugar-free hard candy in the glovebox of his truck, while my MawMaw always had those Brach’s Lemon Drop candies sitting in a dish in the house.. My other MawMaw always had Little Debbie Star Crunches in the pantry.. And every time we went to Taco Bell, my brother would always, always get the ‘Enchirito’- which I’m guessing is Spanish for chemically filled gelatinous gloop.
What you got?
Swamprat reminded me of cinnamon toothpicks
did y’all make cinnamon or red hot toothpicks?
I have not seen the Tab thread but when I saw the title of this i was like “ohhh my aunt Debbie drinking Tab back in the 80’s” LOL.
I grew up with grandparents who grew up on farms in the ozarks. They could cook. It was culture shock for me to be around people who considered salt and pepper to be exotic.You’ve told this story before yes? (Don’t remember the bfast part) - with each part of the meal, a horrible deja vu began to ooze over me
‘Almost every night’ was the dagger
Your story reminded me of one of my experiences. So my submission to this thread is pepper.I'm a heavy black pepper user on certain stuff....dumplins is one of them. I actually go a little pepper overboard on everything. I think it's a learned thing because my mom was like that and now my daughter is like that. White beans/cornbread is another one where I can't have too much black pepper.
Maybe your Grandpa's Mother felt the same way about chicken as my Paternal Grandfather did? He grew up only eating what his family raised, grew, or hunted. They had chickens but he wouldn't eat them because he watched them eat their own feces. Not only would he not eat them, he banned them from the house, and he wouldn't be in a house while they were being cooked. Turkey was banned too. We always had Thanksgiving at my Great Aunt's house.My grandfather was the most formal guy I've ever known. Hat, suit and leather soled shoes everyday to work. He'd come home and change into different pants, and hat with a different shirt and tie and then put on a sweater. If he was outside, he had a hat on and long sleeves - starched. Really starched.
The man loved having parties. Cocktail hour on Fridays - every Friday. I remember he always had to have some sort of strange theme drink. Green foamy things, pink foamy things....always some theme drink, but he drank whiskey. Old Grand Dad bottled in bond was #1 and I always have it at my house to this day, but the thing I recall most was that he loved fried chicken. His family owned chicken hatcheries. Evidently growing up he never ate chicken. I think his mother decided she'd eaten as much chicken as she was ever going to eat and then banned it from their home when he was very young so he revolted. Some days it was Popeyes. Some days it was other local places, but that man ate fried chicken at least 3 times per week. I can remember as a very young child we'd go to their old house uptown for holidays and he would eat fried chicken while everyone else at ham and turkey. with knife and fork.
Beyond well done is how old people cooked. My Paternal Grandfather would grill meat until it had ash on it.My dad’s mom was always rice and milk for breakfast. Every day. My dad was boiled roast with vegetables. Like twice a freaking week. I hated it then, hate it now.
Uncle Jerry I always remember the Canadian Club whiskey he drank for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.
My moms mom though, not so much a food but a cooking style. Burned black. Steak was cooked beyond well done. Veggies boiled until you could eat them through a straw. Everything just incinerated or boiled to death. On the opposite is my cousin who likes his steaks thrown on a bbq turn it turns brown, then flipped to turn brown. Wants them still cold in the middle. This guy takes blue to a whole different level.
But, the one that I remember more than any was my wife’s grandma. She’d get up at 3am to make the turkey for thanksgiving and Christmas. She’d get that thing in the oven at 400 degrees by 6 am. And we’d eat at 6-7 pm. If you’ve seen the turkey scene in Family Vacation yup that was it.She’d then always talk about how it tasted so good. I’ve had jerky that wasn’t that dry.
Like the orange ones that taste like orange zest?One time when my mother was in the hospital, my father and I ate an entire box of fruit slices, those half circles covered with sugar crystals. I can't stand the sight of those things to this day.
Beyond well done is how old people cooked. My Paternal Grandfather would grill meat until it had ash on it.