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Showing posts from January, 2021

Ruth Ann's Strawberry Salad

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 My mother hated to cook. HATED it. In a later era, and with some investment and encouragement (which she never got), she might have been either a concert pianist or a college professor.  Instead, she was a secretary, and retired to be a housewife. I may be biased, and my own preferences may be showing (whoops!), but I don't think she was ever very happy. So, not liking her role, she read a lot and cut corners. She was the 1950s queen of frozen food. Canned foods were also high on the list -- green beans, for example, which were boiled until they were a sodden mess.  It didn't help that Dad was a picky eater, and wanted nothing more than, as the Brits say, "meat and two veg."  Though I do have a suspicion that the Brits ate much better than we did, most nights. Much better . Meat was always, always well done, if you consider that flaky brown stuff we had meat. I never knew meat had any taste, and to this day I lean vegetarian -- although veggies didn't have much