Today they did a segment on Steve Harvey. I enjoy watching Steve Harvey any time of the day or night. He makes me laugh. He is wise. He is quite the charismatic person. And I do not care how many times he was married. (3)! So have I. I really should try to get that one right.
He told how he grew up eating mayonnaise and bread sandwiches because they were poor. I sat up farther in my electric bed, if that is even possible, thinking I should call my mother immediately to see how poor we really were considering I ate mayonnaise sandwiches for years. I would guess from age 7 through 12 years old. Along with hot chocolate and toast or pancakes for breakfast every day. As well as my father required a desert after each meal. My fav was the Mayonnaise Chocolate cake with fluffy white frosting that I would add to my breakfast routine whenever possible. No wonder I have hypoglycemia!!
|1 cup water|
|1 cup mayonnaise|
|1 teaspoon vanilla extract|
|1 cup sugar|
|3 tablespoons baking cocoa|
|2 teaspoons baking soda|
About the only thing of value in that cake was the cocoa! So much for wonderful childhood memories that have caused me terrible issues. Not to worry, I found a East Side Ovens of Milwaukee. They make vegan brownies of which I partake on the weekend. But only ONE.
At the end of Sunday Morning there was a segment on beef jerky. Suddenly another vivid memory comes charging into my head, or my heart? My Granddaddy had the first bison ranch in Texas in the 1950's. Or so he told me. He also told me he rode with Poncho Via. Regardless, he did make the best bison jerky I have ever eaten. He was quite the cook. His jerky wasn't full of fillers, or artificial flavors or GMO corn syrup. I can almost taste it as I type it. Genuine Bison Jerky. And now there is a company producing the same natural bison jerky as my Granddaddy used to make. I can recall the large metal smoker tank where he cooked the meat as well as a small house where he would hang the meat pieces to dry. We would beg for more.
Nowadays I peer at the beef jerky in its fancy labeled small packages at the grocery store as I walk on past before any gag reflex sets in. When you've had the best, the worst wont do.
The photo is Granddad's buffalo ranch. I have a newspaper article about he and the ranch but it is buried in the ancestor file box....along with the family genealogy.
and his dog tags and a beautiful white silk scarf. I
"wonder" sometimes who will I pass them on to.
No one else remembers him from the new generation.
Where will they end up?