As I perused the book, I realized that while being a cherished family item, \u201cHave Fun with Herbs\u201d was seriously flawed.\u00a0 There were many instances where the temperature of the oven was omitted, and that maddening phrase, \u201ccook until done,\u201d appeared frequently.\u00a0 The cookbook\u2019s dated quality was charming; many recipes focused on the novelty of frozen vegetables and processed foods.\u00a0 For example, the recipe for \u201cString Beans and Mushrooms\u201d called for a package of Birdseye French Style frozen beans and a can of mushroom soup.\u00a0 Other expressions included eggs that were \u201chigh and scarce,\u201d\u00a0 presumably describing the high price and scarcity of eggs during World War II, or \u201can egg of butter,\u201d referring to an estimated quantity of butter in the era before quarter pound sticks were wrapped with conveniently marked tablespoons.\u00a0 My cousin Susie thought that the theme of the recipes was to add wine early and often, while I detected that many of the recipes included the unhealthy trio of butter, cream and eggs.<\/p>\n
I was hosting a smattering of local relatives and in addition to the mousse had considered a variety of unique items from the cookbook to round out our memorial meal.\u00a0 A buffet of tripe and tongue seemed to fit the bill, but this menu was greeted with outright hostility by the senior members of the group.\u00a0 When asked which he preferred, Uncle Frank said that he would prefer not to come, and my father begged to have something different.\u00a0 I got the message and was secretly relieved, since the recipe required me to \u201cskin the tongue,\u201d and \u201cwash the tripe.\u201d\u00a0 I had no experience with a tongue, but skinning it sounded like something a cannibal might do.\u00a0 And based on my experience as a pathologist doing autopsies I knew there was no way I could ever clean tripe to an edible level.\u00a0 I settled on a squash lasagna that my nephew had made, and positioned honey mousse as the nostalgic showpiece.<\/p>\n
The recipe fit into the overall unhealthy pattern of the cookbook, consisting only of honey, eggs and cream, all held together with the intimidating gelatin.\u00a0 I am not much of a cook, but if I had to self-classify, I would say that I am more instinctual than technical, often concluding that a recipe just can\u2019t be correct.\u00a0 Honey mousse was no exception.\u00a0 I made the executive decision that the amount of cream in the recipe was way too heavy-handed, so based on Susie\u2019s observation, I substituted a cup of sherry for one cup of cream.<\/p>\n
Then the recipe called for placing the sweet creamy concoction in a mold – and I found just the thing.\u00a0 The previous Christmas, I received a catalog from the Anatomical Supply Company (1-800-ANATOMY) which primarily sold instructional posters and models of body parts -i.e. the circulatory system, the ankle, etc – for doctors\u2019 offices.\u00a0 But they also sold molds of body parts as a novelty, and I purchased molds of the heart, left hand and a brain.\u00a0 Buloop, bloop, bahloop, I poured the honey mousse into the brain and let it set.<\/p>\n
I searched through my parent\u2019s house in an effort to duplicate my grandmother\u2019s table.\u00a0 I found long-unused gold filigreed finger bowls and set them on delicate lace doilies in front of each person\u2019s plate.\u00a0 I retrieved the cut crystal glasses adorned with little star shapes that left imprints on my fingertips.\u00a0 My dining room table seemed cramped compared to my grandparent\u2019s expansive table.\u00a0 As a ten year old it seemed to stretch on forever \u2013 so far that I imagined my natty grandfather shrouded in wispy mist at the other end.\u00a0 Fifty years later one complete generation was gone and most of the next, but when I did a head count I realized that I had a similar number of relatives at this gathering.\u00a0 My elderly Uncle Frank, who had always talked business with his father at the remote end of the table, looked exactly like my grandfather as I remembered him.\u00a0 Young nieces and nephews subbed in for my generation.\u00a0 Two brothers and I assumed our parent\u2019s niche.<\/p>\n
I was still worried about over gelatinizing, but the satisfactory consistency of the mousse made me wonder why my mother got so flustered with gelatin. \u00a0The next challenge was to get the mousse out of the mold in one piece.\u00a0 My young niece Della and I went into the kitchen and jiggled the thing and then used a little knife around the edges.\u00a0 Holding our breath, we tipped the mold. With a sucking whoosh noise, the brain plopped on the plate in one glorious and glistening piece.<\/p>\n
\u00a0The Anatomical Supply Company had helpfully provided recipes and suggested that watermelon jello would produce a most life like brain.\u00a0 They obviously never considered the attributes of autopsy-perfect honey mousse – the pallid ecru brain shimmied and shimmered on the plate – if this mousse was any brainier it would have been Einstein\u2019s.\u00a0 We gave Uncle Frank the honors of serving dessert – and told him that since he rejected other organ meats for the entrees, we had found a suitable substitute for dessert.\u00a0 The poor man was initially panic-stricken at the sight of the life-like human brain, but then erupted in peals of laughter.<\/p>\n I took a nibble from the frontal lobes.\u00a0 The sweetness of the honey and sherry combined with the alcohol packed a wallop.\u00a0 My taste buds rose up in grateful awe as the comforting texture blossomed in my mouth.\u00a0 Far from the isolated memory of a ten year old with no sense of time and place, the honey mousse transported me to full-on nostalgia.\u00a0 The dining room table suddenly seemed to stretch on forever.\u00a0 I noticed the same starry imprint on my fingertips as I gripped my crystal glass.\u00a0 My brother was attempting to make bread from my grandmother\u2019s vague recipe.\u00a0 The dough never rose but its earthy smell seeped in from the adjacent kitchen.\u00a0 Another brother brought the signature \u201cAfter Eight\u201d dinner mints that my grandmother always had on the side board.\u00a0 \u00a0I leaned over and whispered \u201cHM\u201d to my startled niece, whose enduring memory will probably be a brain and not the \u00a0glories of mouth feel.<\/p>\n After a few bites, we agreed that from a taste perspective the mousse was not a success – our group of twelve barely made a dent in the frontal lobes and I have never made it again. But honey mousse was a complete success in a more important realm, transcending beyond simple mouth feel to a complete sensory and emotional memory \u2013 the invisible thread that connects me to my past. \u00a0Mentally I can just pluck that thread and suddenly it is Sunday, I am ten and eating lunch next to my grandmother.<\/p>\n ******* are meant to be broken is my basic cooking strategy and scheme,<\/p>\n So I when I made honey mousse I added liquor instead of cream<\/p>\n And then I put it a mold of a brain that was anatomically correct and *******,<\/p>\n So that when it was served, it looked like a perfect human sacrifice.<\/p>\n Picture Uncle Frank\u2019s anguished scream as it ******* the room<\/p>\n The poor man thinks he has to eat what only cannibals consume.<\/p>\n \u00a0*<\/b><\/p>\n *<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n *<\/p>\n recipes, precise, pierces<\/p>\nFollow Liza Blue on: I first became besotted with mouth feel sitting to the right of my grandmother at Sunday lunches.\u00a0 The main course typically consisted of beef tenderloin cooked to a perfect dusty rose hue accompanied by roasted potatoes whose shiny and auburn … Continue reading ![\"brain](\"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/12\/brain-food.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nThe missing words in the following poem are anagrams (i.e. share the same letters like spot, post, stop) and the number of asterisks indicates the number of letters.\u00a0 Your job is to solve the missing words based on the above rules and the context of the poem.\u00a0 Scroll down for answers.<\/i><\/h6>\n
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