My Gran's Gonna Kill Me

She deftly lifted the next cooked potato and keeping it in the palm of her hand, she first peeled then diced it with a sharp knife.

“Gran, aren’t you afraid of cutting your hand?”

She gave me the same response as my mom had when I’d asked her the last time she made their potato salad.

“No, Dear. I’ve been making this potato salad for a long time, and I’ve never – not once – cut myself while doing it.”

 As she worked on the next cooked potato, I studied her face – the lines crisscrossing her face, the age spots on the back of her hands, the papery thin skin covering her face and arms, her fluffy white hair sticking out from her head – and figured she knew what the heck she was doing.

My Gran must have been in her 80’s when I really watched her make her potato salad. It fascinated me how she was able to hold the cooked potatoes and eggs and dice them in her hands with a sharp knife without cutting her hands.

My mom prepped the potatoes and eggs the same way.

And so do I.

To the best of my knowledge, we’ve never – not once - cut ourselves while doing it either.

I’m pretty sure it’d taste the same if I did the dicing on a cutting board, but I take comfort in knowing that I prepare it the same way my Gran and my mom did.

However, I have added one teeny, tiny ingredient. And I’d bet the $2 that I have in my wallet [I know. I’m a big spender.] that my mom added her own “something” to the recipe. [In fact. I know she did.] I like to think it’s just another layer to the family story.

But I didn’t add this ingredient until I’d been preparing it the exact way my mother had showed me for well over 10 years. And while I’m probably gonna catch a lotta afterlife crap from my Gran for giving away her recipes, I’m still gonna share it. It’s that good. [Heck. What is she gonna do? Come back and haunt me? I wish she would. I have quite a few questions for her.]

Now. Before I give you the complete recipe, you gotta pinky swear that you will NOT change my Gran’s recipe in any way until you’ve been preparing it the same way for at least 10 years. ‘K? If you’re outta the correct ingredients, don’t substitute other crap. This should be a clear sign that it just wasn’t meant for you to make it that day. The don’ts include:

• Putting fruit or nuts in it. [This ain’t fruity or nutty potato salad. Although some of mom’s family was fruity and nutty.]
• Using turkey bacon. [This is just wrong. This ain’t potato salad for dieters.]
• Not using the bacon grease. [This is a must. Again. This ain’t potato salad for dieters.]
• Not putting the onions in it cuz you’re afraid your other half won’t kiss you after eating it. [Honey, once your other half tastes my Gran’s potato salad, you’re gonna get a lotta kisses. It’s that good. Did I mention my Gran had 8 kids?]
• Using sweet relish instead of dill relish. [Save the sweets for dessert. Like pecan or cherry pie. Besides, you’ve already jumped off the dieting deep end with the bacon grease. A piece of pie ain’t gonna make a bit of difference.]
• Using some other type of potatoes other than the regular Russett potatoes. [My Gran’s Gran, Annie O’Brien, was from Ireland, and I have not one potato recipe passed down through my Gran that included golden potatoes, red potatoes, and the like. Save those for your new found fancy schmancy potato recipes. This recipe needs no razzle and dazzle to impress. Hello? Bacon grease.]
• Using more or less of something because you think you know better. [Trust me. My Gran knew better than you.]

Ingredients

• 7 Medium-Large sized Russett Potaoes [I buy the 5# bag, and use the leftovers to make mashed potatoes and my Gran’s potato pancakes with the mashed potato leftovers. Haven’t made up my mind yet if I’m gonna share that recipe with you. It's my Gran's Gran's potato pancake recipe. We’ll see how this goes.]
• 7 Large eggs
• 4 pieces of thick-sliced bacon
• Bacon grease from frying the 4 pieces of bacon
• 2 stalks of celery
• 1 medium-sized sweet onion [It’s not really sweet, so we’re not breaking the whole “This ain’t sweet-tasting potato salad” rule, and it’s one of my mom’s substitutions.]
• 1 Tablespoon of Dill [not sweet] relish
• 1 Tablespoon of mustard [Just the plain ol’ yellow kind. No Dijon-like crap.]
• 1 Tablespoon of white vinegar
• 2 teaspoons of Slap Ya Mama Cajun seasoning [The one with a yellow label.] [This would be my addition to my Gran’s recipe. In fact, I use it in *everything*. You can purchase it online here. So there's absolutely no excuse for you not having this on hand.]
• Mayonnaise, about 1 cup but add ½ a cup at a time.
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. Rinse the potatoes [don't peel before cooking] and put them and the 7 eggs in a big pot just covering them with water. Place on high heat and bring to a boil. Boil for 20-25 minutes.
2. While the potatoes and eggs are boiling, dice the celery and the onions well. No big chunks. [The potato and the bacon are the stars of this show, folks.]
3. When the potatoes and eggs are done, drain the boiling water out of the pot placing the hot potatoes and eggs in a colander to cool.
4. While they're cooling, fry the bacon in the same pot until crispy but not burnt. [This way there's only one pot to clean and the grease can't pop onto your shirt and ruin it. My mama didn't raise no fool.] Don't cook the bacon in the oven or microwave. Fry. It.
5. Once the bacon is fried completely, take the bacon strips out of the pot with tongs and drain them on some paper towels. Place the pot with the grease to the side to cool a bit.
6. Peel the 7 hard boiled eggs.
7. Place the 7 cooled cooked potatoes and the 7 hard boiled eggs in a big plastic bowl.
8. Peel the skin off the cooked potatoes with a knife [like a paring knife] and dice the potatoes and the eggs. No. You don't have to do it in the palm of your hand. In fact, if you're not related to my Gran, I wouldn't try that. Just make sure the diced potato pieces are on the medium side. Not too big and definitely not too small. [We're not making potato soup here.]
9. Once done with the potato and egg dicing, use both your hands to mix the pieces around. Yes. Use your hands, not a spoon.
10. Add the diced celery and onion to the potato and egg mixture and toss again with your hands.
11. Crumble the 4 slices of crispy [but not burned] bacon strips and toss into this mixture. Yes. With your hands.
12. Add the 1 Tablespoon of dill [not sweet] relish to the mixture and toss with your [you guessed it] hands.
13. Add all the leftover bacon grease from the pot, the mustard, and the vinegar to the mixture and stir it all carefully all with a big spoon just until it's mixed. [I use my big sturdy bamboo wooden spoon. I guess you could use some other kind just so long as it's sturdy.] 
14. Add the Slap Ya Mama seasoning. [I just love the name of this stuff. And it tastes perfect. My Cajun neighbor introduced me to it, and it's made in the same little town she's from, Ville Platte, Evangeline Parish, Louisiana, which also happens to be a parish away from where my Gran was born there in Louisiana. Connections, folks. They're everywhere.]
15. Now. Add the mayonnaise a 1/2 cup at a time. Why? Because my Gran's potato salad is not that wet and drippy kind of potato salad. It's just not. It's hearty. The potatoes break up a little while mixing and while it's not creamy, per se, it's definitely not cubed potatoes with mayonnaise dripping off of it either. So. It's better to add a little mayonnaise at a time because you can always add a little more, but once you've ruined the potato salad with too much mayonnaise, it's ruined. I don't care how much you love mayonnaise, it ain't the star of my Gran's potato salad.
16. Before just adding salt blindly, taste test the potato salad. If you think it needs salt, add it. If not, then don't.
17. Chill for at least 2 hours or overnight.
18. Sprinkle a little Slap Ya Mama on top before serving cuz it makes it look pretty.

Remember that this stuff is good, and will go fast. Especially the 2nd time you make it. So. It's perfectly acceptable to get your serving right after you make it. After all, you're the one who took the time and trouble to follow Gran's recipe and it should be properly taste-tested to make sure that you've made it correctly.

This is what it looks like after you've taken your portion and placed the rest in a serving dish:

After all have taken their portion and then some, this is what it'll look like afterwards:

Not really this yellow. Added a filter cuz it made it look better. =)

Lastly, I won't be there to see if you've changed things around with the recipe. But my Gran will probably be watching you to see if you do it right. And if you do see her, please tell her to come and pay me visit. I have some questions for her.

Who The Hell Is This Etiquette Guy?

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Looks like Mom forgot to pack the plastic forks.”

“So. How are we gonna eat the potato salad?”

“Well. She didn’t forget the plastic knives.  We can use those.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Yawning, I couldn’t have cared less how my brother and dad were going to eat that potato salad. I hated potato salad. I didn’t give 2 hoots about anything that had mayonnaise, eggs, onion, and celery. The only things it really had going for it, in my 10-year-old opinion, were the mustard, potatoes, and bacon. In fact, the only thing it was missing from my “There’s-no-way-I’m-gonna-eat-that-crap” list was tomatoes. Yuck.

“Caroline, do you want some potato salad?”

“Nope. Just baked beans and my chicken leg. Please.” 

God, how I loved my mom’s fried chicken. Especially when we’d been fishing all morning from dawn until just after noon. Those donuts we had back at 4 o’clock this morning before putting the boat in the bay hadn’t been intended to last that long and my tummy was growling.

“Caroline? I don’t think you’re gonna be able to eat those baked beans with a knife.” How about 2 chicken legs and some potato salad?”

With an “Are you crazy?” look on my face, I told my dad in no uncertain terms that there was no way on God’s green earth that I was gonna eat that potato salad.

He just shook his head, scooped up what I’d asked for, added a plastic knife, and handed it over. I tore into that cold fried chicken like I hadn’t eaten like, well, since, 4 o’clock this morning. 


Then I attempted the bake beans with a knife. Have you ever attempted to eat baked beans with a plastic knife? Yeah. Well. I don’t suggest it. Even if you are starving. It’s not easy. I quickly ate as much as I could. Then ate the rest of my chicken.

But I was still hungry. I tried to look everywhere else but at my brother’s and dad’s plates piled high with Mom’s potato salad. I watched a bird swoop down towards the water. I saw a fish come to the surface causing a small ripple in the water. I focused on one of the islands that made up the area of the bay where we’d been fishing all morning. Then I looked back at their plates. The potato salad. The piles weren’t as high anymore.

Then I focused on the island once more. My eyes began to droop as the boat gently rocked back and forth. I closed my eyes briefly and filled my lungs with the salty air. I heard more birds off in the distance.

I opened my eyes again. Just staring at that potato salad. My stomach growled. I licked my lips

.

“Caroline? Are you sure you don’t want some potato salad? Here. Try some”

My dad handed me some on a paper plate. I hesitantly picked up my plastic knife. Barely dipped it into the potato salad. Brought it to my nose. Sniffed. My stomach growled. It smelled so good. I stuck out my tongue. Licked some of it off the knife. And?

My mouth watered.

I quickly swallowed it and dug in for more. Each knife-full was better than the last. It was tangy. The juxtaposition of the crispy fried bacon and the soft potatoes was to die for. The crunch of the onion and the celery? Divine.

Each ingredient complimented the other.  It was perfect.

Before I knew it, I was done. I licked the knife. I licked the paper plate. I hadn’t even left any on my plate for Etiquette’s sake, like my Gran always used to tell me to do.

I figured Etiquette could get his own mom’s dang potato salad.

My potato salad, which was my mom's potato salad. Before that is was my Gran's, & one day, it will be my daughter's.

Gal Pals

[For those of you who don't know: Blogher'09, the single biggest girl blog fest, kicked off in Chicago today. However, some of us unable to attend the festivities are having our own party Blog Hop '09 hosted by Robin at Pensieve. So here's a short introduction of myself and my blog.]

First and foremost, I'm a wife and a mom [and everything else that goes along with those titles ;)]. My family is at the center of my passion...genealogy. I love to research and find all those family stories and secrets that are hidden just waiting to be found. From a pirate in Philadelphia, Pa., to a Civil War veteran in Johnson Co., IL, to a farmer on Galveston Island, Texas, to my husband, to my children - they are all my family. Learning all that I can about them and sharing their stories with others is my passion and the main interest of my blog. So, come and take a look around at my Family Stories.

With Both My Hearts

Chinese Food and Yellow Roses
In the middle of my sophomore year in high school my dad bought my mom a house for her birthday.  [Yes, a real house.]  He surprised her with the key to the house, and we celebrated with take-out Chinese food at the built-in kitchen table in our new house.  My dad had also given my mom what he always gave her on special occasions: 2 dozen yellow roses.  As we were eating, I was looking at the beautiful roses, and I also read the card.  It read: "To Carolyn, I love you with both my hearts.  Love, Joe."  For the life of me I couldn't figure out what that meant so I asked them.  My dad explained that when they met and were first married, they used to play a game.  Mom would say she loved him, and he'd say I love you more.  They'd go back and forth with each one proclaiming the depth of their love for each other.  Dad would always end it with, "I have 2 hearts so I love you the most."  [Definite Aaahh moment for us women...]



Mom's Rose Bushes
My mom loves roses.  In fact, my dad would always give her rose bushes [he gave me one, too] as gifts [sometimes for "just because"].  We had quite a rose bush garden, but when we moved we had to leave them behind.  About year ago [for some odd reason] I got to thinking about those rose bushes and my mom's rose garden, and, at the time, I wished that I had had a picture of it [again, for some odd reason].  When looking for the picture of Oscar the Donkey just the other day, I found a Polaroid picture of mom's rose garden [that from the looks of it, needs a little cleaning]!  After my "family picture happy dance", I'd thought it'd be perfect to share this story of my parents with you today.



Happy 54th Anniversary!
Today is the 54th Anniversary of my parents' wedding, though dad is no longer with us.  So, I thought I'd share some pictures of their life together.  Also, I have a message that I can't give my mom in person [because I think it would be too upsetting for her].  Mom, I wish you and dad a happy anniversary, and I know that dad loves you with both his hearts!









Caroline

The Woman Who Introduced the Bonus Child

The Looker

Last, but certainly not least: This is my mom. Wasn't she a "looker" back in the day? Apparently my dad thought so, too. My parents were married when my mom was just 15 yrs old and my dad 17 yrs old. Wow, huh? My mom had my brother 2 years later at 17 and my oldest sister at 19. My other sister was born just 4 yrs after that. Then, 9 years after that the bundle of joy, otherwise known as me, came along! Yes, I am what some refer to as "the accident" [at least that's what my siblings would have you believe...]

My Mom Called Me the Bonus...

Growing up [me, not the said older siblings], my parents were huge Zig Ziglar fans. Do you know him? You've probably heard one of his motivational quotes before...He's a motivational speaker who started holding seminars in the 1970's on the power of positive thinking. My parents went to one of the seminars and also bought his book and all of his tapes [cassette tapes...remember those?]. My parents sat on the side of the bed every morning and before they did anything else, they'd tell themselves what a great day they were going to have...They also taped a positive message on the bathroom mirror, so they'd read it countless times while getting ready in the morning. [I tried the early morning pep talk and I liked it, but never left any messages on the mirror for myself unless you count the time I took a bar of soap and a foggy bathroom mirror and wrote my name on it...] Well, this outlook profoundly affected how I look at life, of course [which is why I'm so more well-adjusted than my older siblings ;) ]. When introducing me to other people, my mom always called me her "Bonus Child" [not an "accident" or "oops"]. Anyway, the smart man that he was my dad followed suit, and that's the kind of attitude that I grew up with...and I wouldn't have it any other way... [My siblings are just jealous because they aren't the "bonus," which is understandable...lol]

The Mom Pics

Above are some pictures of my mom in various "mom" poses. The middle top one is a school picture of my mom, probably around the time she married my dad. The 2 outside pictures of her are with her first 2 babies. Look how young she looks [probably because she was - lol]. The bottom 3 pictures include...me! In the one on the far left, I am a newborn...sleeping on the couch with my mom and the siblings surrounding me. The other 2 were from a family trip to Big Bend National Park out in West Texas, which we did several times growing up [on this trip I was about 6]. One thing I'd like to point out is how happy everyone looks with my addition into their lives...[Trust me I've seen the before pictures and they don't look half as happy! lol]. Speaking of other pictures, there are a ton of them...apparently my dad thought he was a professional photographer...so, he took pictures of everything! Now they are all mine [thanks, dad]...There are a bunch of pictures of my mom in the early years. [Apparently she thought she was a fashion model...lol] So, it was hard to pick just a few to share, but I managed...to include 3 of them with me...

So, thank you mom for making me your "Bonus Child." [Oh, and dad, too, but that's for another story for another day.] I love you, and have a happy Mother's Day!

Caroline

An Angel in a Long Flowing Purple Robe

"Here Hit Her"

One of my favorite all-time chick movies is "Steel Magnolias" because of the display of friendship and family. However, I think my favorite scene is towards the end when the mother, Sally Field's character, is crying after her daughter's funeral, then she gets angry and says she wants to hit something. This is the point [of course] when you can't stop the tears from falling from your eyes, and just when you think you can't take anymore, Olympia Dukakis' character grabs Shirley McLain's character and replies, "Here, hit her." And suddenly you're laughing through your tears...comic relief...a release...

Linda

This is my mother-in-law, Linda Jo. She was the single best mother-in-law in the whole world, and I don't have to meet any of the others to know this. She loved her family, friends, dogs, kids, people, anything purple, and angels. I don't know exactly how the whole angels thing started. She was a hairdresser, and I think it began when one of her clients gave her an angel. It caught on, and soon thereafter all she received were angels for gifts for every occasion.

Just What Does One Wear In Heaven?

Linda fought a valiant fight against breast cancer. Though her body is gone, her spirit is alive and doing well [thank you very much]. Her spirit is in her kids...in her grandkids...Soon after she died, my husband was cleaning out her condo while I was at home with the kids [my son was just 6 months old]. I was changing my son's diaper while my daughter was standing on the bed watching. My husband called and asked what he should do with all of his mom's clothes [she had a ton of them]. I suggested he donate them, and then we hung up, both of us with heavy hearts. My daughter [two and a half at the time] was silent for a little while then she asked, "Mom, is grandma naked in heaven?" Obviously she had overheard our conversation, and I couldn't let her have an image of her grandma naked in heaven...So I replied, "No. No, honey. Grandma is not naked in heaven. She's wearing a long flowing purple robe." My daughter jumped off the bed and ran off to play, relieved that grandma was not naked in heaven. Aahhh...my own "Steel Magnolia" moment!

Happy Mother's Day, Linda! We love and miss you dearly...

Caroline