For JantoJones

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

LJ wouldn't let me post a photo with my comment, so here's a pic of creamed chipped beef. The photo says it all...

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yep, I remember that's what it was called. Our fathers tended to like those sort of things.

My dad liked pickled pigs feet. I used to have to leave the room when he noshed on them.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

Remember the smell of the pig feet cooking in the kitchen. Taffy (our dog) would guard the stove with her life hoping for some

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Oh no my mother wouldn't make them. My father worked in New York City and he'd get them from one of the deli's that made them. He'd bring them home in a jar.

My father was a fisherman but my mother refused to clean the fish, unless it was flounder. Dad for some reason didn't wan't to clean them all the time himself so he'd give the blue fish, snappers and sea bass to the neighbors instead. though I think they'd cook it and send a plate over for dad...hmmm he was pretty crafty I guess. lol.