Like Mother, Like Daughter

My mom invited me over for lunch yesterday. She promised salmon (it's actually trout), and I came running. She could have given me beef stroganoff and I would have come (well, maybe not, I hate beef stroganoff). The meal turned out perfectly: butter lettuce salad, topped with sauteed trout and dill with an olive-oil-lemon-juice dressing. But there was a moment or two, when the kitchen filled with smoke, that we thought that was the end of the fish. Could there be any question about where I get my cavelier carelessness in the kitchen? Obviously it's courtesy of my mother. Salad with Trout and Dill: butter lettuce 1 filet of trout (or salmon--my mom declared that salmon has a better taste) a couple sprigs of fresh dill from a potted plant in your mom's yard drizzle of olive oil juice from half a lemon (per salad) dash of salt and pepper My mom cooked the fish (scale side down) in a skillet without any oil or butter but with the lid on so that the steam would cook the top of the fish. Even though it burned the scales, the thick part of the filet was still a bit raw, so she cut it up and sauteed it for a few minutes until it was flaky. Mint Sun Tea: one-gallon glass jug one gallon of water four or five tea bags (depending on how strong you like it) big handful of fresh mint leaves sun Fill the jug with water (the jug cannot be opaque). Toss in the tea bags near the top and throw in the mint leaves. Leave the jug with the tea and the mint outside in the sun all day. Bring it inside and pop it in the fridge. Serve over ice.

Cloudy With a Chance of Grilled Cheese.

I went to my mom's today for lunch and a short therapy session (that is a joke because it's true). She made the best grilled cheese sandwich, EVER. I don't even know why I try to cook, my mom already does it so well. I could still (hypothetically) go over to her place for every meal.

And today could not have been a more perfect day for such creature comforts as grilled cheese and tomato soup. Driving to work, the fog on the interstate was as thick as pea soup (reference to another great mom moment, the children's book Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs). For a moment near the 72nd Street exit, the cloud parted and I saw sky blue sky above only to plunge once again into grey grey grey. It was the sort of day you want to stay home and watch sappy romance movies.

So it seems fitting that I went home for a one-hour lunch break. Both the dog and the cat greeted me upon arrival--much more enthusiastically on the part of the dog. And my mom immdiately handed me sun tea spiked with mint herbs. It was just a kick of freshness, a remant of summer.

She used Rotella's sandwich bread, made at their factory just up the street. And with plain ole cheddar cheese and summer's best tomato, she crafted my sandwich. Gosh, the cheese just melted over the sides of the tangy tomato. (There is no replacement for quality ingredients, like this tomato that came from my mom's garden). And there were steamed snap peas with warm tomato soup. I'm mad I didn't take a photo as the food was so colorful--something my mom always strives for in her dishes.

And she gave me cookies. Mint-chocolate chip cookies. She always makes them so soft and chewy; I didn't even need milk.