Just finished an annual... chore, for lack of a better word, and feel like telling of it.
Normally, I'm lousy in the kitchen - the kids won't let me fix hotdogs for fear I'll destroy 'em, that's how bad. I can mess up canned soup! But once a year, somehow, I whip up something great.
My mother made a mashed potato salad which the whole family loved. Made it infrequently through the year, but
always on Christmas. In the latter years of her life, she had me do the actual work, she just told me what to add, when to stir, etc. No "recipe", just add until it's "right".
Mom passed away in 1986, 18 yrs ago, but her salad is on the table every Christmas.
Strange part is that neither of my older sisters can make it right, even though they know how, and I've tried at other times too. Never comes out right, not once. But for whatever reason, the batch made late at night on Christmas eve, long after everyone else is asleep, comes out perfect. Huge bowlfull in the fridge right now.
Thanks again, Mom.
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