Category Archives: Memories

That time Mom poured tomato juice on a man in a white suit

Memories, People, , ,

As I was placing a very full pitcher of iced tea into the fridge today I remembered the time my mom poured a half gallon of tomato juice all over Bob Mapes’ white suit. The reason I thought about it was because the lid is not securely on the pitcher and I was worried Dean might take it out quickly and spill iced tea all over the place.

So, the story… (I was in the kitchen at the time and observed everything)

This was the 1970s and my parents were having a party. It may have been a daytime party because people were drinking bloody marys. Mom must have been getting ready to make a bloody mary for someone because she was at the fridge and pulled out the large can of tomato juice (back then all juices that were not frozen were in huge cans) with her left hand and tipped it sideways, bending her elbow so the horizontal can was perpendicular to her shoulder, and closed the fridge with her right hand. She was unaware that someone had already used a can opener on the can, so it was open when she tipped it sideways. She was also unaware that Bob Mapes, wearing a stylish-at-the-time white suit was standing very close behind her. I think his intention was to surprise her since he had just arrived. Suddenly Bob jumped back as the contents of the can of tomato juice poured over his white suit.

He was upset. It really wasn’t Mom’s fault — she always tipped these large juice cans sideways — they were never open when she did it, but Bob was furious and as he grabbed his wife, Marge, and stormed out, told Mom he was sending her the dry-cleaning bill.

Bob and Marge were an interesting couple and I’ll write more about them later.

Auntie Nell’s Chutney

Memories, Food, recipe, ,

Back when I was going to England, I met Jeremy’s Auntie Nell. If I recall correctly, she was his maternal grandmother’s sister. Both she and her sister ( I only knew her as Grandma White) were midwives in their youth. Hmm, maybe I should finish watching, Call the Midwife on PBS — I’d not really connected the two. I think they both, or only one of them received an honor from the Queen for their accomplishments.

Auntie Nell is on the left in this photo. Her sister is on the far right.

Auntie Nell, Granddad White, Auntie Ella, Jeremy, Grandma White

Anyway, I must have really liked chutney in England and Jeremy carefully wrote out his Auntie Nell’s Chutney recipe. Or perhaps they served me Branston Pickle and it was not something one could easily find in the US. Sad to say I have not yet made it.

Auntie Nell’s Chutney

  • 6 lb cooking apples, peeled, cored and sliced
  • 1.5 lb onions, chopped finely
  • .75 lb sultanas (raisins)
  • .75 lb red-skinned potatoes
  • .75 lb green-skinned tomatoes (can use all red if green not available
  • 3 tablespoons salt
  • 1 pint vinegar
  • 3 lb soft brown sugar (half light, half dark)
  • bag mixed pickling spices, peppers, and root ginger

Mix apples, onions, sultanas, tomatoes, and salt together. Boil the vinegar in a large pan and add the soft brown sugar. Stir continually until boiling, then add the apples, onions, etc. keeping simmering. Put in the bag of mixed pickling spices, peppers, and root ginger.

Simmer the chutney for about 2 hours until all the ingredients are absorbed and it is thick and brown, stirring. Take the spice bag out after about half an hour. Add more sugar and salt if necessary after tasting. If the mixture is dry, add more vinegar

Hmm, I am going to have to consult Jeremy about some of this. I don’t understand what the peppers are — black peppercorns?

Stay tuned, I will make this and report back. Perhaps when we have green tomatoes on our plants.

Mom’s Artwork::Exhibit 13: Rickshaw Driver

Family, Memories, Things, ,

This image of a man in (Vietnam?) hung in the living room of my childhood home. I think it was Vietnam because the war was in full swing at the time and the magazines were printing photos of people there. Like the Woman at Night, mom probably found a photo and painted it. Again, it was unusual that a small town white family in the midwest would have a painting of an Asian person on their wall, especially if he were Vietnamese. I cannot imagine my cousin, Harold, would have been happy. I liked it though.

I always through he looked like a family friend:

This painting, like the Woman at Night, will go into storage since there is nowhere to hang it here.