Food was not art when I was a kid. It probably would have been beyond me anyway. I was a pretty basic eater. Nothing too fancy served at our table. Dinner each evening was a family event. My brother and I were expected to be there, on time, hands and faces washed. It was about more than just food. It was conversation and time together.
There were lean times after the war when Dad, like a lot of other WWII vets, was getting started, though I certainly didn't know it at the time. Mom had the frugality of her Pennsylvania Dutch ancestry but her meals were always delicious with one exception. Canned peas. They gag me to this day. We were of the generation told to clean our plates before leaving the table. There were few nights when that was a problem, unless it was canned peas. Eventually my parents learned I was prepared to sleep with my head on the table, those peas were not going into my mouth. After a couple of episodes, I got a pass. Canned peas were not served to me and I was forever grateful. Still am.
How about you. Did you have to clean your plate? Was there ever anything that you just could not stomach?
See you down the trail.
