My mom and dad were not into organized meals that were cooked and
presented eaten and cleaned up in a modular fashion. My mom liked to
cook huge batches of weird food that she would store on pans in
plastic garbage bags and we could have some whenever we wanted. One
of my favorites was a little dose of fresh baked goodness she called
toads. It was a roll stuffed with ground beef and onions that she
would bake up, wrap in the aforementioned garbage bags and refer us
to when we asked what was for dinner for the next week or so. When
the hunger was on you all one need do was fish one out pop it in the
microwave and then dip it into the container of sour cream and enjoy.
Then double dip into the container of sour cream and enjoy some more.
My dad also would get in the baking mood and bake up a huge batch of
over kneaded and under-risen hockey puck like bread and forbid the
purchase of commercially produced, or 'good', bread until it was
eaten. He would be suspicious of too fast consumption so we would
feed it into the garbage a loaf at a time for a week or two until we
could return to the sane world of purchased bread. The exception to
throwing it out was our friend Moroni who inexplicably loved the
stuff and would eat it on purpose and with great relish when he saw
it was available. This means that there is no accounting for taste
some people eat boogers, some people eat my dad's bread. What ever
weird thing they were making they always made a huge batch and
coasted for a couple of days.
