In case you have not figured it out yet, I am not a subtle person. I am not loud, I hardly ever raise my voice, but no one will ever accuse me of being shy either. I come by this rightfully. Most of the family are adventurous and high energy. When I am asleep in bed, on the other side of the world my father is climbing a peak in Arizona or handling the birds of prey at the Wildlife Museum, and my aunt is probably charging around Texas with her young grandchildren. Those children are very lucky to have Aunt Jane as their "Nonna."
I spent several years in Texas living near my Aunt Jane and they were some of the happiest times of my life. I occasionally chose to spend time with her and Uncle Jon rather than going out with my friends. Jane and I were often working on some art or culinary project together. The only times of relative stillness were when we sat down with a few glasses of wine to watch the Food Network. We especially adored watching the Two Fat Ladies. Clarissa Dickson Wright and Jennifer Paterson would travel across Britain on their Triumph Thunderbird 950 with a sidecar, cooking up heavy dishes at wonderful locations such as a cathedral or a farm. A great variety of dishes involved bacon, and we would excitedly yell out, "bacon!" and break into laughter every time we saw it being introduced to a dish. Pies, skewers, pans... it didn't matter what method was being used with any number of ingredients; bacon was almost always part of the equation.
Being a not so subtle person, I thought that these two women were gods. Finally, I had found others who spoke my language. They would have understood my desire to eat lamb every day for dinner as a child. They would have appreciated my love of full flavored, stinky cheese. They would have shared my confusion when I dated that French foodie who wouldn't allow me to eat the tomato and garlic with the baguette (he insisted on only rubbing the tomato and garlic across the bread to add an "essence" of flavor). I pretended to clean up and scarfed down the tomato behind his back in the kitchen.
After Jennifer passed away and the show ended, my uncle and his best friend rented some Harleys for a few months, specifically the Electra Glide and the Road King. In the early spring through summer, the four of us toured the Texas hill country, roaring over the hills and around lakes. We stopped at many county seats, taking in smoked brisket, venison sausage, German and Acadian fare, tamales con carne, and Lost Maples' apple pies. I think that we would have done those fat ladies proud.
I spent several years in Texas living near my Aunt Jane and they were some of the happiest times of my life. I occasionally chose to spend time with her and Uncle Jon rather than going out with my friends. Jane and I were often working on some art or culinary project together. The only times of relative stillness were when we sat down with a few glasses of wine to watch the Food Network. We especially adored watching the Two Fat Ladies. Clarissa Dickson Wright and Jennifer Paterson would travel across Britain on their Triumph Thunderbird 950 with a sidecar, cooking up heavy dishes at wonderful locations such as a cathedral or a farm. A great variety of dishes involved bacon, and we would excitedly yell out, "bacon!" and break into laughter every time we saw it being introduced to a dish. Pies, skewers, pans... it didn't matter what method was being used with any number of ingredients; bacon was almost always part of the equation.
Being a not so subtle person, I thought that these two women were gods. Finally, I had found others who spoke my language. They would have understood my desire to eat lamb every day for dinner as a child. They would have appreciated my love of full flavored, stinky cheese. They would have shared my confusion when I dated that French foodie who wouldn't allow me to eat the tomato and garlic with the baguette (he insisted on only rubbing the tomato and garlic across the bread to add an "essence" of flavor). I pretended to clean up and scarfed down the tomato behind his back in the kitchen.
After Jennifer passed away and the show ended, my uncle and his best friend rented some Harleys for a few months, specifically the Electra Glide and the Road King. In the early spring through summer, the four of us toured the Texas hill country, roaring over the hills and around lakes. We stopped at many county seats, taking in smoked brisket, venison sausage, German and Acadian fare, tamales con carne, and Lost Maples' apple pies. I think that we would have done those fat ladies proud.
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