First of all, thanks to all of you for the very loving cards, e-mails, calls, facebook comments and hugs about the passing of my Grandpa. And I'm so thankful for the family members that helped me get to, from, through and around Michigan (worldperks miles, chauffeur services, bed and breakfast, popcorn, etc...).
Trips to Michigan never fail to bring back damn-breaking floods of memories...both good and bad. But either way, they're typically connected to food in some seemingly obscure, but ultimately blatant, way. After all, what else are you going to do when the temperature is a balmy 12 degrees and you've just shoveled the driveway for the third time while the snow continues to fall? That's right, you're going to eat. And when it's colder than a well-digger’s butt (I heard that one at my grandfather’s funeral), what better thing to eat than a casserole? You can put it in the oven while (well) digging your car out of the snow and then come inside to something as delicious, yet unappealing looking, as my adored tater tot casserole (pictured above). This is a congealed concoction of ground beef, green beans and tater tots with Campbell's "cream of whatever" soup poured over it (note: because of its unattractive appearance, I used to insist that my mother make tater tot casserole for ALL potlucks...because I would be guaranteed at least half of the pan simply on looks alone - the casserole's looks that is, not mine). Other favorites were of course the ubiquitous green bean casserole, chicken divan, and "chili rice skillet dinner." In fact, I think my first ever taco was filled with chili rice skillet dinner. I remember it had tomatoes, dried onions and that essential ingredient…"Minute Rice." So I made it through childhood on the beloved casserole, a staple in the well-planned menus of my "BA in home economics" mother.
But when my friends and I became teenagers, casseroles were no longer fashionable (dare I use the word passé?); all we wanted was Taco Bell. For you southerner’s, keep in mind that Chick-fil-A has STILL NOT made it to Michigan. I know people that would drive to South Bend, Indiana or Toledo, Ohio to satisfy that craving – but this teenager’s budget wouldn’t accommodate a trip like that. For chicken, all we had was "Speedy Chick" which is good but doesn’t compare to a Chick-fil-A sandwich. Other than the Speedy Chick, we had a McDonalds (where I made my first payments into Social Security), a Hardees’, a Big Boy, the Stagecoach, the Highlight Drive-In, and the region-renowned Schuler’s. But there was no Taco Bell fix to be had in our small town. To quench our Taco Bell desires, we had to drive all the way to Battle Creek, a 15 minute drive in good weather. Notice I said "good weather." We made this trek year-round and in conditions a mail carrier would be impressed with. We made the trip at midnight if we had the hankering. And if it was so late that the drive-thru was all that was open, we would eat those tostados and tacos in the car with our ski gloves on if we had to. I’m sure I only took the gloves off long enough to turn up Bob Segar on the AM/FM, rip open the "fire" sauce, and slather it over my entire order. Back in the day, there was no such thing as fast food leftovers, let alone Taco Bell leftovers. Taco Bell delicacies were gone before you left the grimy, greasy building or at the latest, before you got out of your car. And the only evidence left for Sherlock Holmes (Mom) and Dr. Watson (Dad) were the taco sauce drips on your down jacket and the burrito supreme wrappers layering the floor boards of the van like those auto repair shop papers they put down to make you think they didn’t get their oil-encrusted boots all over your car mats.
So where was I going with this? Oh yeah, Baby Sis and I made a pit stop at Mom and Dad’s house on our way from Detroit Metro Airport to Grandpa’s funeral in his hometown of Pullman. Mom and Dad had already headed over to Pullman and told us to make ourselves at home in their house. I instinctively, like a robot, made my way to the upstairs fridge where they stash the adult beverages. I was pleased to find a very nicely chilled Sam Adams (probably that nicely chilled because it had been in there since my last visit in September). Then I went back downstairs to see what they had in the main fridge. Would you believe there were Taco Bell leftovers? Baby Sis and I were dying laughing at the site of two lonely soft tacos huddled together on the middle shelf of the refrigerator. These poor tacos had not only made it out of the car, but they also made it beyond the dining room table. I wanted to preserve their historic significance, but I’d never had Taco Bell leftovers...so of course we each ate one. For those of you out there wondering what a leftover Taco Bell taco tastes like…it wasn’t half bad (but you know what that means, it wasn’t half good either!) Mom and Dad say that they regularly go to My Taco Bell and print off coupons for Taco Bell. I guess the coupons include just a few too many tacos for my healthy, skinny parents to eat. Perhaps I should be following their lead….
