The Recipe

Mom has always made a delicious chicken spaghetti.  Sissy has asked me for the recipe a few times, remarking how good it was, and I would try to coax from Mom some semblance of a recipe.  Like so many things she cooks, there's no guarantee it's ever made the same way twice, unless it's a baked good like a pie.  Because, well, pies and cakes just take a recipe.  Fried foods may even take a recipe.  But crock pot dishes?  Not so much. Many times I've heard her say something like, "Well, that's what the recipe calls for, but I use whatever I have on hand."

Knowing that MyFella and I were attempting to make chicken spaghetti this weekend, I called her, the expert on this dish.  She could recall most items, and the steps, but finally referred me to her sister, stating, "I haven't made it in so long, and it was her recipe anyway."

I remember she distinctly told me before that she didn't use very much Rotel because she didn't want the dish too spicy. Her goal is not to have Mexicany spaghetti, it's to have flavorful spaghetti.  So it's no surprise that she would use just half a can of Rotel. But I dutifully called my aunt, and confirmed the recipe. And most importantly, I confirmed the super secret boiling the noodles step that makes all the difference to the recipe.

For the traditionalist, here it is, a quite tasty version of Chicken Spaghetti with Velveeta.

- Chicken.  Whole, boiled, de-boned. Or in my case, not boiled, but slow cooked overnight in the crockpot.
- Broth.  All of it from the above chicken, saved.  Reserve about 3 cups into a separate container to be used later, if necessary, to thin the dish down.  The bulk of the broth (preferably skimmed or strained, in my opinion) in a large pot.
-Noodles. Boil your noodles in the large pot, in the chicken broth.  This step is essential.  It infuses flavor into the noodles which will carry over into every bite.  Boil the noodles to al dente, because remember they will keep cooking in the dish.

For the cheesy sauce part:
- Big block of Velveeta cheese
- Can cream of chicken soup
- Jar of pimentos
- Rotel

Here's where the "whatever I have on hand" part comes in.  Mom will use only half a can of Rotel, and will often skip pimentos anyway. Mom often said her dish is not supposed to be spicy, just flavorful. My aunt, while telling the recipe, stated that she doesn't use Rotel at all, though all of her daughters do, and they mostly make the dish now, not her. As for pimentos, I don't know anyone who knows what a pimento even is, just that it's red and comes in a jar.  So for this, I'd go with "to taste."*

As an example, in today's dish, we used a very big crock pot and a whole lot of noodles.  So we went with two cans of Rotel and no pimentos.  No pimentos were on hand.  We also didn't have any cream of chicken soup, but using my Mom's advice, we used the cream of onion in the cabinet.

To me, when I would occasionally stir and mix the whole concoction in the crock pot, I couldn't help but think it was way too thick.  So I added back in the reserve chicken broth, and I think the end result of the whole dish was a nice and flavorful chickeny, cheesy, noodley dish.

And at least one of MyFella's cousins was overheard calling it "great."

So that's a win-win. 

P.S.  In all fairness to all parties involved, I did not cook nor debone a chicken.  Or as a friend of mine said today, "We could say you did it." There was the implied, "But no one who knows you will believe it."

*I've since discovered that pimentos are just mild peppers.  So you can go with one or the other - pimentos or Rotel.

June 9, 2011: Inheritance

My Mamaw is 86 years old. And it’s been an exciting 86 years, not the least of which involved meeting me some 20 something years ago. I was somewhere around 14, 15 when I met her. The grandmother of a friend of mine, who has become “sister to my heart”*, I was instantly taken by her. Now in my 40’s, she has been a constant source of love and support in my life. And I hope that I’ve been the same to her.

As the years marched by, more things have taken place than could be put in one blog. Including a fun, on-going competition among her grandchildren to get her to admit “I’m your favorite.”

On a visit to her home two weeks ago, she gave me my inheritance. She didn’t really know it, and I didn’t expect it. But there it was, more precious than gold and jewels. One of her sons called her, and while talking with him she said, “He came to visit me. He’s my adopted grandson. The first time he met me, he called me Grandmaw. I love that boy.”



* phrase loosely borrowed from the Valdemor series by Mercedes Lackey

I'll Restart It For You

The Movie House

Sissy got me to thinking last night about the movie house in our home town. She reminded me of a fun afternoon years ago with her and a hometown, high school friend.

A few weeks ago I was home, and had run in a grocery store in the shopping mall where the empty cinema still stands. I’m not sure why, but I drove over there. It’s one of those small town shopping centers, a big parking lot off the main highway, with the edges banked by one or two long buildings – a grocery store, maybe a clothing store, a Radio Shack, etc. And there on the left, is the Twin Cinema. It carries a man’s name – we’ll just call Joe Smith. “Joe Smith’s Twin Cinema.” I never knew "Joe Smith", or anyone else that claimed to know him. I would guess that he once owned the cinema, but I think I heard he’d sold it at some point, to a man that kept the name because it was such an ingrained part of the name. “JoeSmith’sTwinCinema.”

Two theatre’s – one on the left, one on the right. Doors on the left, doors on the right. The ticket seller was in the middle, and once you walked in, the concession stand was there with the ticket seller – a little island from where they could sell to the left or the right.

I can remember so clearly (or at least I think I do) standing in line to see Escape to Witch Mountain (1975), The Cat from Outer Space (1978), the original Star Wars movie (1977). I can also remember going by myself to see the first Star Trek movie (1979). I was such a die-hard geek just yearning for ultra-geekiness, that my social gene that wanted me to only go to movies with people fought with my geeky gene, that so badly wanted to see that movie. To my recollection, I went to the matinee, probably thinking there was a lesser chance of being caught alone at the movie.

Sometime around 7 or 8 years ago, maybe fewer, a nearby casino was rumored to have bought the cinema, or at least the business, if not the building. I’m not sure if they did or not, but right around that time, the cinema closed, and the casino opened a two movie cinema in their building, which they closed soon after.

Having worked in casino’s for so long, and knowing something of the management of that particular one, it seems like something they would do. Spend a modest sum to buy an aging business in a small town, temporarily move the entertainment option to their location, then eventually just close it all down under the guise of a renovation or remodel, that just never opened back up.

But parked there a month ago, looking directly at the brick columned awning and the plate glass windows, covered in dust with finger print writing, able to see the wood paneling and the concession island, I could see myself in line. Far from 37 years and 300 pounds, I was 10, 11, 12, 15, 16, and I was skinny, though I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I was in line with dreams of a great movie, or just a great time. I can remember even then going to the bathroom and cursing myself for drinking so much during the movie. (Even today I try to get an aisle seat, because I always gotta pee.). It was a different time, a different life, a different town. But movies still feel magical to me. I love the feel of sitting down, love the Coke and popcorn in hand, love the internal argument of how long can I go before I have to go? I had forgotten until Sissy wrote it that the seats were different, just an incline, no stair steps. And the floor often sticky from popcorn and cokes before us. The heavy drapes. And someone who would tell you if you were the only ones at the matinee, “I’ll restart it for you.” What a nice gift in life, “I’ll restart it for you.”

Where ever he is, that man with his name on the front of the cinema, I wonder if he knows his name is still on the sign.







Guest Blog:
A little step back
I grew up in a small town, but it was the largest small town around, and we were lucky enough to have a movie theatre. The name -- "Twin Cinema" -- says it all. There were two screens, and if you were lucky, whatever movie you wanted to see would be playing on one of the two screens. The show times were 7:00 pm and 9:15 pm daily. When I was a senior in high school, they went crazy and started showing 2:00 pm matinées on Saturday and Sunday.To be honest, they probably didn't need more showings than that. One of my best memories in that theatre is going to see Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure with “Ramblings from Another Gay Guy” and MAPD (names changed). We were the only ones there, and we had gotten there a few minutes after the movie started. The guy in the projection room called down, "Don't worry! I'll restart it for you!"We've started going to an older theatre here that reminds me of that theatre in my hometown, with the heavy draperies on the walls and the close seats that are placed on an incline toward the screen.Last week I took Sass and Spyder to see Meet the Robinsons on opening day, and we were the only people in the theatre. The only people. As we were walking in, Sass cut her foot, and the lady running the place (from whom we had just bought our tickets) said, "Just take her in the bathroom and wash it. I'll bring a Band-Aid and some Neosporin." And she did. Today we saw Firehouse Dog with “Ramblings from Another Gay Guy” , and again, we were the only ones in the theatre. The lady who sold us the tickets served us our popcorn, then she started the movie. And I'll bet if we had been late, she would have restarted it for us.For a long time I think I bought into the idea that newer and nicer was always better. Not consciously, but I did go to the bigger and nicer chain theatre for a long time without really questioning why I chose that one.I've decided that the smaller theatre really is the better one for me, if only because it allows me to take a little step back into my past.