A few seemingly innocent events happened recently that sent me on a reverie back in time. The first was a mad search for something in the pantry when I noticed, by chance, a meat grinder hiding the corner. The second was a plethora of cucumbers in our community garden. So I decided to make relish.
I have a very vivid memory of my father making relish in the basement. I remember the meat grinder he used to chop up the vegetables to just-the-right size for relish. I remember the big green pan that all those ground-up veggies fell into as he turned the handle. I remember passing him cucumber after cucumber and, eventually, pushing a few of them about half-way down before he took over. And lastly, I remember lots of homemade relish all year long!
All this slowly floated through my mind as I got up early one morning this week. I pulled down the meat grinder from it's little hidey-hole. I found the perfect place to set it up and eventually, a bowl that would fit under it. I haven't actually used a meat grinder since that time in the basement, so it took a bit of time to figure out how to use it - now that I'm the responsible adult in charge. And then, I started to turn the handle and crank out what would eventually be our relish. I marveled at how well-made that meat grinder was. I smiled as I worked, thinking about that night with my Dad in the basement. It was like history repeating itself.
I wonder if my children will go through their teens and twenties thinking I am insane for doing all that work when it was simply a matter of making a stop in one of the aisles at the grocery store to pick up a jar. I also wonder if my kids will find themselves having the same experience I was that morning when they are in their thirties. I'm betting it will be a little of both.
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