BREAD ‘N MILK

Once upon a time, in far-off 1960's land, Mom, Daddy, and I had spent the day working at the farm, my dad's family home, which was located ten miles up a steep, winding grade from our house in town. We hardly ever spent the night at the farm since we enjoyed the creature comforts of the town house, such as hot and cold running water, indoor plumbing, electricity, and television. As suppertime approached on the workday in question and we made ready for the return to town, my dad said to my mother, "You know what I'd like for supper? Bread and milk." And she replied, "I was just thinking about that myself!" To which I responded with a resounding, "EEEEeewww!" Any complaint I had fell on deaf ears. We had bread and milk for supper. The bread was toasted, spread with "nutritious butter," and broken into a bowl. Hot milk was poured over the buttered bread and then it was sprinkled with a little sugar and cinnamon. I didn't care for it, despite the sugar and cinnamon, and in my opinion it only got worse as the bread became soggier. As a meal, it did not appeal to me as a nourishing end to a day of hard work, but I was expected to eat my serving and I did.

Even then, as a teen-ager, I understood something about my parents' mutual craving for bread and milk. They both knew about it and they both thought of it independently when the day had been long, which meant it had been served in the homes of their youth. I asked Mother once if she had eaten bread and milk often as a child. "Yes, very often," she replied.

Mother and Daddy were not ignorant of good nutrition, and in retrospect I believe we had certainly had plenty to eat that day. Daddy always started the day by preparing a good breakfast, and I'm sure we had meat sandwiches for lunch and probably snacks as well. From their point of view a light supper was in order and the day suggested the kind of easy meal their own mothers would have prepared under the circumstances.

Mike says that he never heard of plain old bread and milk, but back home in Arkansas, his parents used to eat cornbread and buttermilk occasionally for supper. He said he was never made to eat this concoction as he has an aversion to buttermilk.

I find that when Mike and I have worked long and are exhausted both physically and mentally, that's when we really want a filling meal. My preference on such occasions is to have planned the meal in advance, but failing that, we often think of creamed tuna on toast, though preparation constitutes a good ten minutes on my feet stirring a white sauce. I prefer Chunky Soup or adding tuna to a box of macaroni and cheese.

How do you cope with meal prep when you and your family are tired and hungry?