Ten Pounds In Ten Days

I have three stories. Okay, maybe four. So I tell the same stories over and over again. Those of you that have heard this, I apologize. Just click away.

When I was growing up my mom would cook just the right amount of food. I have two brothers, two sisters, mom and dad makes seven. So my mom would cook seven pieces of chicken, seven baked potatoes, and seventy green beans. You get the idea. Dinner was served. We ate it. It was gone. Left on the stove: empty pots.

Shortly after I met Merri, way back in Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Something, she invited me over for dinner. On the dinner table were serving bowls. In my house serving bowls were for Thanksgiving. It was sort of like a restaurant in my house. Your plate came from the kitchen with the food on it. And then it was gone. I don't remember exactly what was on Merri's table, but it was a lot of food. A lot of really great food. My mom cooked one meat (fish/poultry), one potato, one veggie. And sometimes they were all mixed up in one bowl. Remember the dreaded casserole? Merri's grandmother Mary, cooked at least one meat. Sometimes though it might be a main dish of chicken, and maybe some meatballs & sausage in another bowl. Then potatoes of some kind, and maybe two or three different veggies. And then of course a nice krispy Italian bread and butter. Or you'd just dip the bread in the gravy (tomato sauce). I'm probably missing something. The point is, there was always plenty of food.

Mary told me that she was taught, growing up, that for an Italian wife it was a disgrace to run out of food. Not just food in general, but anything in particular: the bread, the chicken, the potatoes. You couldn't run out of anything. This is the reason behind the large quantities of food.

Okay, no problem, at least you know what's for lunch tomorrow. The problem was that the food was sooo goood. Even if my mom had cooked more food, and served it in serving bowls, and there were seconds, it wouldn't have been a problem. The food was okay, but it wasn't great. Mary's food on the other hand was to die for. Some how these serving bowls kept getting passed to me, and food kept getting put on my plate, and I kept on eating it. I couldn't stop myself. Mary would say, "Billy don't you want another sausage? There you go. Take two. You need energy."
"Thanks Mary. Maybe I'll have a little more asparagus too."

I gained ten pounds in ten days when I met Merri. I've also gained another two or three since then...a year.

Mary's gone now, God bless her soul. Mary's food however is still pretty much here. Maybe some of the dishes have a little less oil. Maybe the veggies are cooked two or three minute less. But the flavor's still here.

My wife has a few different meals that I can't stop eating. Most contain some type of pasta. Sausage and meatballs could also be included. In the fall she'll make this pork dinner, two or three times. Usually on a Sunday. Pork, mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, gravy (not tomato sauce), etc. When my wife makes these meals I have a really hard time stopping. Merri is not as supportive of my eating habits as Mary was, though. She usually discourages me from taking seconds. She's really not happy if I take thirds. If it's one of my really favorite meals, I might even eat off of my daughters plate when she's not looking (I feel like Dom DeLuise).

Later, after I help clean the dishes, I'll lay down on the couch and wonder if my stomach might actually explode this time.

Bill
Head Dishwasher