TheBanyanTree: Fried Raisins

[paul]

There were a couple of confusing messages on the answering machine from 
sister Anna.  Since calling Anna gets her machine, I called home.  And 
mom answered.  I get the machine most of the time.  Uh, which is why I 
don't call.

With the problem explained, the conversation wandered.  Me and my mom 
can do this... have three or four conversations going on... at the same 
time... with each other.

When I was a little kid, like seven pushing ten, once in a while my mom 
would make fried raisins.  Yummy.  Unlike candy, we could eat as much as 
we wanted.

I've looked for the recipe with no luck.  Well, now I know.

You put a little oil in the frying pan.  Not much, just enough to wet 
it.  Single layer of raisins, fry until puffy.  Drain.  I remember mom 
using newspapers.  While still hot, sprinkle with chile powder and a 
tiny bit of salt.

That's exactly right.  But being eight or nine was a long time ago.


I also learned the secret for her beef stroganoff.  I love that stuff. 
I can do a respectable batch but it's never exactly right.  She just 
rattled off the recipe....  cut the meat into strips, brown until cooked 
about done.  Add the onion, brown.  Add the sliced mushrooms.  A little 
can of tomato sauce or two or a can of tomato paste (with some water) 
depending on the size of the batch.  Simmer it all.  Dump in the sour 
cream just before serving.  Over egg noodles.

Tomato sauce.  Huh.  That's the missing flavor.


And why did I call?  Seems like the old man has colon cancer.  But he's 
ok.  "They cut it out and he doesn't have a bag."  <-- mom's words. 
Grouchy as hell.  Grouchy, daddy, same same ever since he got home from 
'Nam.

He's 82, 83 in April.  Mom's 78.


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