Simple Truths in Cold Lunch

It may come as no surprise that I am composing a book of life memories to share with family and friends. The publishing company compiling thoughts of my “masterpiece” of sorts is Story Worth.  Gifted to me nearly a year ago, it has provided for much reflection and good. Here is a small slice of homemade memory…

 “What was your favorite lunch to bring to school?”  What an interesting topic to reflect upon. Being raised in a large farming family, foodstuffs were bountiful, healthy, and for the most part, homemade. Momma, the ever-creative, packed eight basic, cold lunch delights five days a week throughout most of the school year. Some were trade worthy with friends. Others, not so much. For me, taking a bagged lunch seemed mundane and simple. Store bought delights were status, or so I believed.

Television commercials caused me to believe my hunger and happiness would be soothed by yum wrapped in colorful cellophane. I savored those delicious yearnings. With little trade value in my lunch sack, I would only dream of Miracle Whip slathered bologna, ham, or fanciful olive loaf sandwiches topped with Wonder Bread. Round up a snack bag of Frito’s Corn Chips, Ruffles by Lays, a Hostess SnoBall or Twinkie, and I would have Heaven in a handful. Add to that a metal Roy Rogers/Dale Evans lunch box with a matching thermos. Perfection in store-bought yummy, not to mention a likely bump in popularity.

Standard lunches for me were none of the above. They often consisted of Holsum white or Roman Meal wheat bread with a limited variety of sandwich fillers. Momma had two favorites: peanut butter and American cheese. Fridays were devoted to tuna or egg salad (pew!).  A homemade cut of frosted cake, blond brownies or assorted cookies and bars rounded out my carry out.  Carefully wrapped in wax paper and lovingly packed into a brown paper lunch bag, that was it. Plain, simple, adequate. 

Once in a notion Momma would surprise her kidlets with an out of the ordinary pleasure of sorts. My most favorite lunch she packed included her home baked white bread (cut thick) sandwich of ample peanut butter and oozing fresh strawberry jam, a small, juicy tomato or sliced cucumber picked from the garden, a few chocolate-peanut butter no bake cookies and a fresh apple or pear from the orchard. Add a $.03 carton of white milk, and my trade worthy lunch was the best it could be. 

I could only dream that friends would offer to trade Momma’s homemades for their commercially manufactured confections. Oatmeal raisin cookies for Oreos? Blonde brownies for Ho-Hos? The highly coveted Hostess Jim-Jam for Momma’s Chocolate-peanut butter no bakes? Oh my! Possible? Probable? Marcie to the rescue. Yes, Marcie, my savior in cold lunch trading. 

As it turned, Marcie was new to my class and had joined me for lunch on this crisp September day. Seventh grade as I recall, we sat on the gym bleachers to share goods and gossip. As she opened her lunch sack, I spied a panacea of plastic. Rather than gape at the treasure of treats, I casually unwrapped my standard sandwich and cookies. 

“Oh my, Josie, is that homemade bread? Does your mom bake all the time? You are sooooo lucky! I LOVE homemade everything!” Marcie was awed by Momma’s creation. 

Cool and calm I snickered, “Ah, ya my mom bakes all the time. Today I’ve got peanut butter with her homemade strawberry jam. Wanna taste?” 

Marcie did not hesitate. “Taste? You must be kidding! I’ll trade off my bologna any day! In fact, I’ll share everything right now. Deal?”

Thoughts raced my mind. Was Marcie for real? Bologna? Was that like a flat hot dog? Fritos and a Ho-Ho? Never tasting the likes of these cellophane treats, I calmed my bugged eyes and salivating mouth. And trade we did. Lunch for lunch.

To my surprise and disappointment, the chips were much too salty. The bologna slid about the mayo mess of soggy bread. A sip of milk helped to wash the stale Hostess treat out of my mouth. A thin chocolate wax remained on my teeth. All that I had ever imagined was awash with flavorless disappointment. 

I pretended to enjoy while Marcie devoured Momma’s goodness. “Wow Josie, I’ll trade any day you want. This lunch was terrific! I want my mom to make those chocolate fudge cookies. Can I get the recipe from you? They were Yummeee!”

As a result, my lunch of homemade was far more superior than I ever expected. All those commercial messages and plastic food yearnings had assured me that dreams and reality were not one in the same. Intense longings had flipped to indifference and sadness. 

All in all, my adventures with plastic food was swiftly abated with Marcie’s so-called delights. What I had assumed was the epic in eating was not. Commercially made, wrapped and stored in colorful packaging had no comparison to Momma’s homemade creations. Another irrational thought floating about my head proved me wrong. Thank you Mom, for the bounty of scratch foods and cold lunches. We were rich in homemade!

Lessons Learned:

Homemade is best. Momma proved it every day of her life. I continue to share my best of scratch with family and friends.

People can be irrational. Nothing is perfect, including Hostess, bologna and ME!

Thanks for reading!

No Bake Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies

Prepare 2 cookie sheets with non-stick spray or butter. Set aside.

In a large frypan combine:

2 cups sugar

1 stick margarine/butter (I like butter)

½ cup milk( cow milk only. Others don’t work as well)

4 Tablespoons cocoa (I like Toll House)

Stir on medium high heat until a full rolling boil is reached. Continuously stir for 2 full minutes. Remove from heat and add:

1 teaspoon (a capful) vanilla

½ cup peanut butter (a big gob)

Stir until all mixture is dissolved. 

Add:

3 or so cups Quick cooking oatmeal

Add any or all of the following:

½ cup coconut

½ cup raisins

Chopped walnuts to taste

Stir quickly until all is mixed. Quickly spoon drop mix on prepared cookie sheets. Don’t worry about messiness. You will have those morsels for sampling. Leave ample mix in fry pan for doing the same. Makes up to 2 dozen cookies. Enjoy.