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Can Your Father Cook...


markk
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My dad would be 94 if he were still alive. I have a vague recollection of him once or twice cooking scrambled eggs (not salami & eggs, which I never heard of as a combination!). But he never cooked otherwise, and once, when my mother was out for some reason, even managed to burn a can of Campbell's soup he was heating for us kids.

SuzySushi

"She sells shiso by the seashore."

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My father's 68 and Jewish, and eggs are one of the few things I've seen him cook. He grills, too, though, and used to make a mean milkshake when I was a kid. Mom won't let him cook, though, bc "He uses every utensil in the house, and doesn't clean up when he's done."

Now I have a craving for salami & eggs. Oddly, I used to only get Jewish salami when I stole some from a friend in elementary school; in my family, "salami" means genoa (Mom's Italian).

Joanna G. Hurley

"Civilization means food and literature all round." -Aldous Huxley

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My dad who turned 88 in October, bakes bread, makes pies, smokes his own salmon, etc, etc. We buy him new cookbooks regularly. After I bought Michael Ruhlmans 'Charcuterie' I lent it to him and he read it cover to cover.

Before my mother developed Alzheimers she did all the day to day cooking but the church ladies were standing at the door waiting for his bread and rolls on bake sale days. Most never made it to the sale table.

He was also chief cook and navigator on a lot of sailing races all over the world. I already mentioned once his cherry dessert that flipped off the oven door when they hit a swell and the crew ate it off the deck anyway, cause they really liked his cooking.

Don't recall any salami and eggs however.

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My dad would be 108 if he were alive today. And yes, he could cook very well. He even experimented with cooking Chinese & northern Italian recipes, which was a rare thing in 1950s middle America.

Beyond that, he grew an outrageous backyard vegetable garden, not to mention several grape arbors & fruit trees.

He would also drive 100 miles once every week or two to obtain bacon & sausages from the rural German butcher that had supplied the town where he grew up for generations.

He also built a brick fireplace outback for grilling & BBQing meats. Hickory smoked Q was an everyday meal in the summertime.

I daresay we ate better than any of our peers in upper middle class subrban St. Louis, though I only vaguely appreciated it at the time, because the quality of our food was important to my dad & he really enjoyed tending the garden.

Thank God for tea! What would the world do without tea? How did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea!

- Sydney Smith, English clergyman & essayist, 1771-1845

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My Jewish Dad( 63) and my Jewish maternal grandpa( almost 97!!) both can NOT cook anything. Even salami and eggs( a favorite of my gramps). My dad won't go near it with a 10 foot pole unless it was egg beaters and fat free salami( after all, he lives in So Cal and has a 26yr old hooker, I mean girlfriend)

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But I have a lot of memories of Jewish men who could cook omelette-style salami and eggs when their wives weren't around...(plus I remember) a comment that Itzahk Perlman had made about it once on a cooking show many years ago.

Perlman wields a mean fiddle but I disagree with his salami-frying technique. He would cut the salami into discs and fry them on each side. I much prefer to dice the salami into chunks, thus exposing more fry-worthy surface area.

Back on topic, my father left most of the cooking to Mama Fresser, just like most men of the generation. I learned to cook at the foot (and later elbow) of Mama Fresser, and I like to season the fry-pan with garlic powder while sauteeing salami for an omelette.

There are two sides to every story and one side to a Möbius band.

borschtbelt.blogspot.com

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But I have a lot of memories of Jewish men who could cook omelette-style salami and eggs when their wives weren't around...(plus I remember) a comment that Itzahk Perlman had made about it once on a cooking show many years ago.

Perlman wields a mean fiddle but I disagree with his salami-frying technique. He would cut the salami into discs and fry them on each side. I much prefer to dice the salami into chunks, thus exposing more fry-worthy surface area.

Back on topic, my father left most of the cooking to Mama Fresser, just like most men of the generation. I learned to cook at the foot (and later elbow) of Mama Fresser, and I like to season the fry-pan with garlic powder while sauteeing salami for an omelette.

Chunks? Oy gevolt.

I took a real liking to him (Perlman) when he was on some cooking show telling about his quest to make "helzel" the way his mother did, having not had the good sense to learn it from her when he could have. (I know this well. I had planned to have my grandmother teach me the Jewish cooking repertoire she did so well - she was born in Europe around 1900- when I finished college, but sadly, it was too late then.)

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Woman (noticing a large bowl of cut fruit): “How much is the fruit salad?”

Counterman: “Three-ninety-eight a pound.”

Woman (incredulous, and loud): “THREE-NINETY EIGHT A POUND ????”

Counterman: “Who’s going to sit and cut fruit all day, lady… YOU?”

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Perlman wields a mean fiddle but I disagree with his salami-frying technique.  He would cut the salami into discs and fry them on each side.  I much prefer to dice the salami into chunks, thus exposing more fry-worthy surface area.

Chunks? Oy gevalt.

Years ago during Succot, I whipped up salami omelettes for 40 guests in my wacky Moroccan rabbi's kitchen. Once the rabbi's mother overcame her indignance at a man invading her kitchen :shock: , she happily joined in as we diced about three foot-long salamis.

The scent of garlic was in the air as I whipped up omelettes one-by-one for his guests, who topped their omelettes with dijon mustard and dined in the sukkah.

There are two sides to every story and one side to a Möbius band.

borschtbelt.blogspot.com

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My father is 70, not Jewish but of Hungarian descent and can cook anything you can think of as can my mother (Estonian, non-Jewish). But whilst we dont have salami and eggs as such, I did grow up eating something my father called hash (no not the 'funny' herb that messes with your brain!) which was essentially scrambled eggs with chopped onions, peppers and either chopped bacon, ham or salami. After being plated, he would sprinkle it with Hungarian hot Paprika. I dont know if the dish is Hungarian. I've certainly never seen it there during visits but nonetheless I loved it every time we ate it.

Now we cook together all the time. I work with my Father in a food business so it extends over to work too. I also cook with my Mother too but never when she is making desserts as I think it just stresses her out!

I too like the feelings of nostalgia when cooking with my parents and I also want to learn their repertoire (despite my bugging, they will not write down their recipes!!!).

Great thread.

Cheers,

G

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My dad is 90. The only thing he's capable of is re-heating already prepared food and baking potatoes. On those rare occasions we ate salami and eggs it was made by my mother.

There is a kosher butcher in Brooklyn that cures its own smoked hard sausages. Whenever we buy them, we'll have a dinner that week off salami and eggs.

"Some people see a sheet of seaweed and want to be wrapped in it. I want to see it around a piece of fish."-- William Grimes

"People are bastard-coated bastards, with bastard filling." - Dr. Cox on Scrubs

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When I was a little girl my father didn't cook much, but he did make a mean Western Omelet, the WASP version of salami and eggs -- ham is an important ingredient.

He will be eighty at his next birthday, and my mother -- a fabulous cook, as I've mentioned many times -- is ailing. When I talked to her last Sunday she said: "I can't get over your father's learning curve. Not only is he my personal shopper (picked out two pairs of Ralph Lauren trousers that fit her diminished frame perfectly) he's my personal chef too! This week he made oyster stew, poached lobsters and Beef Wellington."

And she's not making this up. Nothing like wanting to fatten up the love of your life to apply the mind to the task.

Margaret McArthur

"Take it easy, but take it."

Studs Terkel

1912-2008

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When I was a little girl my father didn't cook much, but he did make a mean Western Omelet, the WASP version of salami and eggs -- ham is an important ingredient.

This sounds very much like my father. He really didn't cook while we were growing up and he still doesn't now, and when he did cook his repertoire was pretty much limited to waffles, meats does on the grill outside, and western sandwiches. Western sandwiches were much like your father's western omelet, but the scrambled eggs were served as a sandwich on buttered bread or toast.

And here's why sometimes I hate this site :biggrin:: this thread made me think about my father's cooking, or lack thereof. And it made me wonder what salami and eggs tasted like, since I've never had it. So when I pulled the salami out of the drawer for a sandwich for lunch today, it all kind of gelled together and I ended up with an homage to my father and this thread - a salami and egg "western" sandwich:

gallery_15557_1141_30863.jpg

Marcia.

Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he wanted...he lived happily ever after. -- Willy Wonka

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There is a kosher butcher in Brooklyn that cures its own smoked hard sausages.  Whenever we buy them, we'll have a dinner that week off salami and eggs.

Inquiring minds want to know, Blovie:

Do you saute the salami in discs or do you chop it into chunks and saute it in garlic powder? And the next time I'm in NYC, do I get to don my toque and cook for Blovie and Company?

There are two sides to every story and one side to a Möbius band.

borschtbelt.blogspot.com

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My stars.... not Jewish, but when I read the opening post of this thread I immediately pictured Dad at the stove on Sunday mornings fixing breakfast when I was growing up-- normally eggs and some breakfast meat-- scrapple, bacon, or kielbasa were the usual picks. I know he must have done some other cooking, but Sunday breakfast was the biggie for his cooking and that's what I think of when I think of him cooking. And sometimes as a treat he'd get these wonderful onion rolls from what I've recently realized was a Jewish deli around the corner from us. I didn't know from Jewish when I was a kid-- I just know I loooved those onion rolls! :wub:

"Fat is money." (Per a cracklings maker shown on Dirty Jobs.)
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  • 1 year later...

My dad's past on, but he would be 93 now. I don't remember him ever cooking except on Saturday mornings. I'd get up early and wait for him to come downstairs, and hed prepare breakfast. It would just be the two of us, our time.

He'd make "bullseye" eggs (fried eggs, the yolk being the bullseye), scrambled eggs, French toast, salami and eggs, or matzoh brie. That was it. The food was OK, but the part of breakfast I liked best was being with my dad. He'd stand at the stove playing around in the pan, and regale me with wonderful stories about when he was growing up, or stories about his time in WWII. The one I remember most clearly was how he made French toast for the guys without eggs, and soaking the bread in milk and water in his helmet, and then frying it up for the guys to share.

shel

 ... Shel


 

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Oy and oh my. How did you know?

Dad would have been 89 now, and while he seasonally manned the backyard grill, the only thing he cooked in our kitchen was salami and eggs.

He had no interest in making anything else. But he - and we - loved this dish, so on some Sunday mornings, he diced the salami - more surfaces to get crisp - and poured in the eggs, stirred constantly and made sure everyone got all they wanted.

Dad was raised in NYC and it's been 38 years since he made salami and eggs for me. I may have to make some soon.

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My dad (in his 80s) enjoys grilling, and will fire up the grill anytime, even if there's 3 feet of snow around it.

Other than that, he has dabbled in a few things, but relies on my mother to really cook.

I remember him being seriously very sad, and complaining, when Mom went off to work full time while I was in college because he was either getting slow cooker meals or sandwiches. He really expects the women to cook, even though being very verbally supportive of women's lib. His dabbling essentially results a regular Sunday breakfast, and a few meals a year.

His special dishes are:

*shirred eggs with a side of red flannel hash made on Sunday mornings, fed to mom in bed (romance!)

*navy bean soup/dried lima bean soup

*beer bread

*a weird white-sauced curry dish

*rumtopf

He can also make scrambled eggs, but likes to eat eggs over-easy, which he cannot make.

I can recall several times as a child when my mother was sick in bed, and Dad had me cooking all the family meals for a week or so. The first time it happened, I had just turned 4. The last time, I was 11, and wound up not just making meals but also cooking/hostessing a big cocktail party for his business associates. Thank goodness for good cookbooks! -IIRC, most of the cocktail party menu came from a book by Countess Mapie de Toulouse-Lautrec.

I had started making salads and soups, and helping with dishes, while standing on a chair at age 3. I graduated to main dishes and desserts around age 7, and really started making pastries like laminated doughs and petit fours at age 10.

I am just now realizing that his encouragement of my kitchen interests was probably more about him getting more food (Mom hates to cook!) and better food, than about encouraging my development.

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Dad is 89, born on the lower east side.

He worked as a soda jerk in his youth, so he made a mean milkshake.

Pancakes and waffles were his duty, as were heating up the blintzes. He also manned the grill, building a wood teepee to start the coals, no lighter fluid. He made many a black and blue chateaubriand - the one big splurge that graced the house over the years, and plenty of burgers.

When they married, he taught my Mom to make a pot of coffee, fry an egg, and gave her the first recipe book she owned. I think she made the salami and eggs, but I could be wrong. The salami was cut into thin disks and then quartered, thank you very much.

Saturday lunch was typically tuna sandwiches, potato chips, and chocolate milkshakes, if we were at home taking care of chores like mowing the lawn, washing the car, dusting, and vacuuming.

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