When my mom was around, it seemed I was always calling her just about 5:00... "Mom, I have a pound of hamburger (or some chicken breasts, or whatever). What should I make for dinner?" When she died, I started calling my sis. Now SHE'S in Italy, 9 hours ahead and fast asleep when I'm looking for dinner ideas.
I always think of my mom when I'm stewing a chicken. She did that often -- we had 8 people in our family (and always extra people around our table), so a chicken went far, especially in some of those 70's casseroles.
I still stew chickens -- for soup, for enchiladas, for salads... And as I'm standing there picking off every little bit of meat, I think of my mom and dad -- standing over the hot pot of bones, veggies and meat -- they wouldn't miss even a tiny morsel. Every bone would be stripped.
Thanks Mom and Dad, for feeding us so well and for passing on the "how to" so I know how to stew a chicken now. Love, Pat
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