Picture courtesy Freepik.com
Today’s recipe, Farmer’s
Breakfast, is a memory from my mom’s kitchen. As many of you know, I’m slowly putting
together a cookbook of food we ate in the fifties (my teen years), and I’ll call
it, I think, Mom and Me in the Kitchen. It turns out so far to be a
whole lot of recipes from my mom and, in truth, a tribute to her. So a bit
about Mom is maybe appropriate.
Alice
Marie Peterman Peckham MacBain was born in Kankakee, Illinois, in 1900. Grandpa
Peterman was an engineer on the Illinois Central line and Granny (Anna) was a
housewife. The couple were first generation Germans. Mom never talked about her
childhood much, but I gather the food was heavily influenced by German dishes.
I know she loved sausages and hated sauerkraut. I think today’s recipe traces back
to her childhood. I can easily imagine Granny Peterman cooking it, though by
the time I knew her Granny did little but sit in a chair.
Mom
lived through the Spanish Flu epidemic, two world wars, and the Depression. The
Great Depression left an indelible mark on her. I never heard her mention what
life was like in those years. But when I was with her in the kitchen, I saw the
clear signs. We saved bits of string, tied into one huge ball; bits of foil,
rolled into a ball for the war effort in the Forties though I have no idea
where or how she delivered these treasures.
We massaged color pills into blocks of—lard, I guess. It was white, and
those little red pills were supposed to turn it the color of butter so we would
be fooled. In her new 1950s kitchen, Mom had a special space for storing used
paper towels—she would wipe a counter with a clean towel and then stash it;
next time there was a floor spill, she pulled out that once-used towel. She
countenanced no waste: when I had my own home, feeding a family of six, I
didn’t save tiny bits of leftovers—it was pointless (until I learned to make
soup). Scraps wouldn’t feed all of us, but when visiting Mom would say
sarcastically, “I know. Just pitch it.” In her last years, when we moved her
out of her house, we found tiny baby food jars in the back of the refrigerator
with who knows what—whatever it was, much of it had begun to mold. I am, by
contrast, not a frugal cook but sort of living alone, I save leftovers for
lunch and hate to see food wasted. Mom’s saving ways definitely have had an
effect on me.
Soup
of the week illustrates Mom’s frugality. She put those saved leftovers to good
by using them in what I came to call soup of the week. A dab of this, a bit of
that meat, a few spoonfuls of a casserole, some fresh vegetables—it all went
into the soup pot, perhaps augmented with chicken broth or canned tomatoes. I
used to do that for my kids. Even though it almost always turned a muddy brown
in color, they liked it.
Mom
had a lot of sadness in her life, but she kept a positive outlook on life. Through
the death of one husband, the loss of an infant of six months, the prolonged
death of her sister due to cancer, Mom mostly kept a wonderful sense of humor.
I can still see her telling stories of when all the aunts and uncles were
young—tears of laughter would roll down her cheeks as she told those stories.
And I have my own stories of Mom’s laughter in the kitchen—it is probably my
best memory of her.
One of
the frugal dishes I remember was what she called farmer’s breakfast. Mom fried
some bacon, then fried potatoes in the grease. She added sliced green onions
and grated cheddar cheese and then stirred up some eggs and poured them over
the mixture. Once the eggs solidified and held together, she served it. I loved
it, and when it came my turn and I served it to my children, they too loved it.
What’s not to like? I somehow forgot all about it until a recent email from
America’s Test Kitchen (one of my favorite sources) featured Bauernfrühstück
(German Farmer’s Breakfast). There it was—Mom’s dish. So, here’s my adaptation
of the recipe, a blend of my memories of Mom and the amounts recommended by
America’s Test Kitchn (not all ingredients are the same):
Farmer’s Breakfast (serves four)
Ingredients
4 slices bacon
Four green onions, chopped
2 llbs. Yukon Gold potatoes
1 cup cheddar, grated
6 eggs, beaten
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
Ketchup
2 Tbsp. butter, if needed
Directions
Fry the bacon until crisp. Removed from skillet
and drain on paper towels.
Peel the potatoes or not—Yukon gold have such
thin skins. I’m sure, however, when I was a teen, we never heard of Yukon gold
and Mom used good old Russet or Idaho potatoes which she would have scrubbed
and peeled. Dice the potatoes (you might want to sprinkle an extra bit of salt
on them) and fry in the bacon grease, getting as good a crisp crust as you can.
IF there is not enough grease, add a Tbsp. of butter. Stir in green onions and sauté
briefly. Stir in grated cheese.
Separately add salt and pepper to eggs and beat
until well blended. Over medium heat, stir eggs into potato mixture, stirring
to make sure the eggs are well incorporated. While they eggs cook occasionally use
a spatula to lift up the mixture and let uncooked eggs run under it where they
will cook. When eggs solidify to the point you want (don’t get them too hard), crumble
the bacon in and stir again. Serve hot immediately with optional ketchup.
This is like spoon-feeding your family
cholesterol, and I recognize it’s not a dish any of us should eat often. But
sometimes, it’s just perfect. A few of our neighbors occasionally get
together for an event we call “Brinner” (breakfast as dinner). The next time we
do, this is what I’ll bring.
