My Favorite Food

It seems that whenever Husband and I go to the grocery store our cart is full of dairy products. We are big milk drinkers, and we use lots of butter, cheese, sour cream, ice cream, yogurt, and skyr. I put half and half in my coffee.  Thank goodness I don’t have lactose intolerance.  I even have read reports recently that whole milk and full fat dairy products may help to prevent heart disease. Our son and daughter-in-law are instructed by the pediatrician to feed their son whole milk. I was told to offer 1% milk when our children were young. Things have changed.

One of my favorite memories of living in Winnipeg was attending the Winnipeg Folk Festival. I loved the music, of course, but also some of the non-musical acts like the poet Peter Paul Van Camp. He is an Ohio native and was a regular on the Canadian folk festival circuit and lived for a while in Winnipeg.  He writes and recites some wonderful and clever poems. I wouldn’t be surprised if most Baboons know of him, but if not, I am happy to introduce you.  It was really something to be at the Winnipeg Festival out under the stars and hear several thousand people shout,  “DAIRY PRODUCTS”, until he began his recitation. The following YouTube clip was filmed at a smaller venue:

What is your favorite food? Write a haiku for hot dogs or a sonnet for soup.

61 thoughts on “My Favorite Food”

  1. We are dairy gals at our house, so much so in fact that we have a milkman. They do still exist. Haikus and sonnets will have to wait until later today when I’m not doing voice recognition


      1. I’m not terribly sure. “Girls” doesn’t sound right when you get to be my age and “women” seems a little formal. So I probably chose “gals” because it was less formal.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I was guessing that, or something close. “Girl” became political a few years ago, and a lot of people stopped using it. But “woman” isn’t a comfortable alternative. I once noticed I had begun using “gal”, although that word had a funny association with western slang. My daughter now uses “gal” although I think she wouldn’t have when she was younger.

          Liked by 1 person

        2. Some words just feel “right” or authentic in my mouth. Gal isn’t one of them. I’m wondering whether other baboons have words that they avoid because they feel inauthentic, or pretentious, or otherwise inaccurate or even misleading in their mouth?

          That said, I recognize that gal is a word that I’m perfectly comfortable with vs using. It just just doesn’t fit how I perceive myself and other women.

          Liked by 3 people

        3. There is actually a word that I am not using right now. It was a perfectly good word until the last election. Now I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to say it out loud again.

          Liked by 2 people

        4. That’s how I feel about “awesome.’ It’s a word that is almost impossible to use these days. It’s a word that has lost all credibility.

          Liked by 1 person

        5. In our house, for no particular reason we would say that we are “dairy hounds”, using hounds as a way of implying that we really like dairy products.

          Liked by 2 people

  2. Milk haunted my childhood like Marley’s ghost, making our family’s shared meals disgusting for me twice a day because I was forced to drink a big glass of milk each meal. I’m convinced that it is stupid to force children to consume foods they abhor. Others disagree.

    Ironically, my family loved milk. When my dad was released from the army he celebrated by downing a tall glass of cool milk. For him, that symbolized a return to normal, healthy life after the war.

    Liked by 7 people

    1. I’m sure I would have liked your dad, Steve. When baby and I got back from China, in the Los Angeles airport I had a sandwich and FOUR cartons of milk. I told the gal at the counter to make sure to get them from the back of the cooler so that they were really cold.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. In his story about being released from the army and flown to California so he could go home, he got off the airplane and threw himself on the ground to kiss it. Then he went to the first bar he saw and ordered a big glass of milk. It’s funny, the things we miss when our lives change.

        Liked by 3 people

        1. My dad said one thing he missed most while he was in the Army in WWII was real milk. He was stationed in the Philippines, so milk was powdered, butter was a weird non-melting something… he was not a fan. Real dairy, that’s what he wanted.


  3. Poor Mr Van Camp was haunted by Dairy Products like Louden Wainright III was haunted by Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Highway. I love it when he says “I created a Tour de Force, then I was forced to tour”.

    Liked by 7 people

  4. Too early to rhyme for me. Love and admire cheese for its miracle of fermentation. I also love wine, beer, and bread, which also are amazing chemistry experiments of survival. Give me a roast leg of lamb (Costco’s is the best and cheapest!) or a filet of sockeye salmon for my main course. On low-meat days, I’ll take my spahghetti with homemade marinara (with a very small amount of ground beef). Last but not least, a world-class doughnut, eclair, turnover, cinnamon roll, or anything else that you can put sugar and/or chocolate and bake/fry. If no pastries available, I’ll settle for a chocolate chip cookie or some ice cream or frozen custard.

    Chris in Owatonna

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Poetry must exist in all that.

      Fermentation is truly a survival miracle. My sister and I are allergic to anything fermented. However, you cannot avoid those little micro-organisms, so we just have to live with the chronic reactions. Yogurt, which is good for everyone else, gives me… well, you know.

      Liked by 6 people

        1. You mean awesome sauerkraut?

          Although I give up some things like yogurt that give big reactions, I don’t give up everything. What would life be without bread and butter pickles, after all?

          Liked by 2 people

      1. When my knees were better and I could get right down there I would.
        We drank raw milk for a long time. After milking we’d take an ice cream bucket of milk to the house. In the morning, skim the cream off and take that back to the tank.
        I remember Mom having a countertop pasteurizer in the kitchen (It had a red top) and I think we still have the metal bucket that went in there.
        But when it quit working, we just drank it raw. (Looking them up, a new one is $400 – $500. Wow, no thanks).
        Took me a while to switch over to store milk after I sold the milk cows. I drink 1%. Skim milk is just water.

        Liked by 3 people

        1. In one of those interesting twists, my trivia question of the day that came to my phone asked what percentage of whole milk is water. Anybody want to guess?

          Liked by 1 person

        2. Whole milk is an excellent source of omega 3’s. Only if it’s whole milk, though. Skim, 2%, and 1% have the omega 3’s processed out.


  5. I love milk.I have one of those insulated mugs for my milk every night.
    And I have ham and cheese sandwichs at work most days.
    Ice cream — oh yeah! Except for, you know, it’s downstairs….

    Ice cream so far away
    Hard, cold, lonely in the freezer
    Add peanuts and chocolate chips

    Liked by 6 people

    1. Have you tried to grow them? (Should there be a square inch of your yard that is untilled, you could plow it up), When you retire and move “south” you must buy an acreage! Also a walk-in, restaurant-style freezer.

      Liked by 4 people

      1. Our growing season is a tad too short, although there are some northern varieties we may try. I want melons like they grow in Woonsocket, SD, or like the ones we had when we lived in southern Indiana.

        Liked by 3 people

    2. I have lived in stickier sticks than you, I’m guessing. We spent two summers in a town whose only grocery store was the size of a bedroom. What lingers in memory was the vile lettuce. Not the grocer’s fault. He was the tiniest customer of the produce shipper, so the only lettuce he could offer was amber and slimy even as it sat on ice in the store.

      Liked by 2 people

  6. Shall I compare cheddar to a summer’s day?
    It is more tasty and more temperate.
    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
    And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
    Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
    And often its gold complexion dimmed;
    And every fair from fair sometime declines,
    By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
    But cheese’s eternal summer shall not fade,
    Nor lose possession of my tastebuds ever,
    Nor shall mold drag cheddar wand’rest in his shade,
    When in eternal fridges can keep cheese almost forever.
    So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
    So long lives this, and cheddar give life to me.

    Apologies to the bard.

    Liked by 6 people

  7. Beautiful soup, so rich and green,
    Waiting in a hot tureen,
    Soup of the evening, beautiful soup.
    Soup of the evening, beautiful soup.

    Thank you, Lewis Carroll.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. And the ever famous Ode to Beans:

      Beans, beans the musical fruit.
      The more you eat the more you toot,
      The more you toot
      The better you feel.
      So let’s eat beans for every meal.

      Liked by 3 people

      1. My dad learned that little ditty while in the army. He shared it every time we ate beans, which was often. Then there was the vulgar army song about chipped beef on toast, sung to the tune of Colonel Bogie’s march. We got that a lot.

        Liked by 3 people

  8. The Story of Augustus who would not have any Soup

    Augustus was a chubby lad;
    Fat, ruddy cheeks Augustus had;
    And everybody saw with joy
    The plump and hearty, healthy boy,
    He ate and drank as he was told
    And never let his soup get cold.

    But one day, one cold winter’s day
    He screamed out-‘Take the soup away:
    Oh, take the nasty soup away!
    I won’t have any soup today.’

    Next day begins his tale of woes,
    Quite lank and lean Augustus grows,
    Yet though he feels so weak and ill,
    The naughty fellow cries out still-
    ‘Not any soup for me I say:
    Oh, take the nasty soup away!
    I won’t have any soup today.’

    The third day comes; oh’ what a sin!
    To make himself so pale and thin.
    Yet, when the soup is put on table,
    He screams as loud as he is able,-
    ‘Not any soup for me, I say:
    Oh take the nasty soup away!
    I won’t have any soup to-day.’

    Look at him, now the fourth’s day’s come!
    He scarcely weighs a sugar-plum;
    He’s like a little bit of thread
    And on the fifth day he was dead!
    -Heinrich Hoffmann

    Liked by 5 people

  9. I share Bil’s caveat about naming a favorite food: It depends on when you ask me. Right now, it’s soup weather. I love soups and I love to make them. One of my favorites is borscht, but borscht, like so many other foods, have many different interpretations. I like Peter Ostrushko’s song that contains the recipe that he grew up with. Unfortunately, I can’t find it on YouTube, but here are the lyrics:

    Is the sweetest thing this side of heaven Mama made for me.
    I’ve eaten it all my life, or at least since I was three,
    This B-O-R-S-C-H-T.

    And now that I’m an adult I can make it just for me,
    And if you’ve got a minute I will share my recipe
    For B-O-R-S-C-H-T.

    First you take four quarts of water, put it in a pot,
    You start a blaze beneath, add some salt but not a lot,
    Add some pepper and some parsley, and a bayleaf don’t you know,
    When the water starts to boil now you know you’re on the go,

    Then get a chicken (tho’ my mama says that turkey tastes the best),
    You chop it into pieces, take the giblets and the neck,
    You add it to the water and you turn the heat down low,
    And let that chicken simmer for a half an hour or so.

    When your chicken meat is cooked, take it out with extra care,
    You put it in a bowl inside your cold re-Frigidaire.
    When your meat is slowly cooling take a break and have a smoke,
    While the soup pot slowly simmers you can watch your favorite soap.

    Now it’s time to get an onion, and four garlic cloves,
    You chop them finely then into the frying pan they go.
    Saute them in some butter til they’re brown and kinda clear,
    You add them to the soup and now tomato time is here!

    Now if you grow your own tomatoes, one quart is all you need,
    If you use the store-bought kind, get two cans of Del Monte’s.
    Add the ‘maters to the soup and let it simmer if you will,
    Then add about a tablespoon of dried or fresh-cut dill.

    Now get a half a dozen carrots, potatoes five or six,
    Three or four red beets and chop them into bite-size bits,
    Add the veggies to the soup and let it simmer there and thicken,
    Go back to the re-Frigidaire and get that cooled-off chicken.

    Take the meat off of the bones, take away the skin and fat,
    Put the meat into the soup, give the rest to your old cat.
    Now the soup is nearly finished and your race is almost run,
    But don’t forget the cabbage, that’s the last thing that is done.

    One small head of cabbage that you shred up fairly fine,
    And once you put it in the soup it doesn’t take much time.
    You can start to set your table and call your dinner guests,
    But don’t forget the condiments that’ll put them to the test!

    First you get some rye bread that’s full of caraway seeds,
    You slice it nice and thick; use lots of butter, if you please!
    Then next comes thick white sour cream that’ll make you groan with pleasure,
    You plop it in the soup and now you’re really under pressure

    ‘Cause the final step is garlic cloves that are thick and fat,
    You peel them ’till they’re naked and you eat them just like that!
    You dip them in a bowl of salt and eat those puppies raw,
    And now you’re ready for the finest meal you ever saw …

    And Nirvana is at hand,
    It’s the best soup in the land,
    And I’ll spell it for you one more time so you will understand …

    Is the sweetest thing this side of heaven Mama made for me,
    For breakfast, lunch or dinner, any day of any week,
    It’s B-O-R-S-C-H-T.

    It makes you healthy, wealthy, wise; unless I sound too meek,
    It’s made me what I am and I’ll continually speak
    For B-O-R-S-C-H-T.


    Liked by 3 people

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