When I was growing up, my mother used simple ingredients to create delicious food. We travelled to the nearest grocery store, which was 45 miles north of the ranch, loaded up several baskets, signed the ticket and headed home- breaking into a sack of cookies along the way.
Note: The long term effects of signing tickets and eating cookies randomly is a topic for another day.
My mother had a gold Toronado (remember those?), and she drove fast. Can you picture this? We certainly didn’t want the ice cream to melt.
We had one of these waiting in the garage when we arrived home, so unloading was not a big deal.
She somehow persuaded the manager at HEB in Falfurrias, Texas to lend her one for the duration. Unloading was easy and efficient, especially since the sidewalk from the driveway to the back door was about 50 yards.
Once inside, we put things away- not in a pantry but in a shallow, three can deep cabinet, from the floor up about six feet, that she had built next to the refrigerator. She taught me that a shallow cabinet for canned goods was better. Canned goods were not the no-no that some cooks profess today.
Confession: I love Del Monte whole green beans with a hamburger patty, grilled onions, and a glass of tea. When I am working on it ,that seems to off-set cookie jamming spells.
When you live on a ranch 45 miles from town, stocking up is important. I love to stock up. Most collectors do, don’t they?
(I’m off to the hospital to see my father. I stuck his hunting flashlight into the bag I am taking him- in case he needs to check things out after dark.)