My Mom's Stroganoff

Most people have a favorite comfort food they like to eat. It can be a sweet dessert, chocolate, mashed potatoes, just about anything from Thanksgiving dinner. Some dishes are cultural, something that reminds them of family and home. Others are just for the taste or mouth feel of the food item. I know when my husband is having an off day, he wants macaroni and cheese. A perennial favorite with kids and adults alike. You can never do wrong with the orange-yellow noodle-y goodness.

With favorite and comfort foods, many of us like to have it on hand when those who love it come over. For example, my son’s favorite food that my mom used to make is her beef stroganoff. Every time we came over to her house, she had a giant pot on the stove for us, with plenty for to-go containers (Cool Whip or Country Crock). It’s a favorite of mine as well. We never asked for it; it just appeared when we came over.

She’d make the stroganoff in an aluminum pot. Inside the pot was a permanent discolored line; that was the line you filled it up for cooking. She used to call it “the dirty line.” The pot wasn’t dirty; the aluminum just reacted with a tomato-based acidity, and it changed color over time. That was a favorite pot she cooked with. When we’d ask, “How much water should I use?”

“Fill it up to the dirty line.”

Everyone’s got a favorite pot, pan, or dish they like to use. Some like the copper-clad pans, others swear by cast iron or porcelain, and I generally use a stainless-steel set I received when I moved out. The grocery store she liked had a special each month: spend $20 (1978 pricing) and you could purchase a piece of the Estia Gourmet line of pots and pans for a discount. It was nothing overly special to write home about, but my mom loved a deal. She said these would be part of my hope chest, and I kept them stored in my closet until I moved out. I had, over the years, acquired some of my mom’s behemoth Guardian pots. Not for the faint of heart, these heavy pans got hot through and through, and the glass lids tended to chip over time. And heaven help you if you forgot to use mitts to carry it because every part of that pot got hot. But it would cook things magically.

When my mom passed, everyone wanted one of those pots. Perhaps they thought it was imbued with my mother’s skills and would be a good-luck charm for anyone using them. Maybe it was the memory that those pots were almost always on the stove. I knew there were plenty of those pots to go around, but not enough. I wasn’t going to give up mine or the ones I set aside for my son, so I had to be a little creative. I ordered several from E-Bay with the hard-to-find glass lids and gave them out to each of the grandkids. They all looked the same, and each was seasoned well from previous owners. It worked out well, and everyone was happy. David just wanted the aluminum pot with the dirty line.

My son had the wonderful opportunity of living with my mom for the last five years of her life. He became the caretaker of the house when he graduated from high school and was closer to the college he went to living there. It was a win-win situation. He helped his grandma with anything she needed, lawn mowing, fixing things, taking care of the car, etc. It was because of him that she was able to live on her own. She liked having him around and made the things he liked. She made sure he was well fed.

I warned him that if he said he liked something, that food going to make the cooking rotation often. In the mornings, they’d sit together at the table and share coffee, the Maxwell House drip coffee that could wake the dead, and talk about the upcoming or previous day. She made his favorites a lot of time in thanks for the things he did around the house. He’d stop by on the way home and pick up whatever she needed after leaving him a cute voicemail as if he were listening at the time (on her flip phone). He also monitored repairmen who’d come by to fix the plumbing, electric, or household appliances. He gained a lot of maintenance skills in those areas because his engineering brain asked a lot of questions.

The morning time together tightened the bond between them. She loved hearing him talk about detailed motors and suspension bridges, and the intricately difficult things he was doing in college. Whether or not she understood everything was unimportant. Grandma doting on her grandson was something she loved to do. She had two main love languages: cutting out newspaper comics or articles that she thought you’d like, and cooking something for you. Cue the beef stroganoff.

It was in one of her recipe books which had become brittle over time. She knew how to make it, but he always wanted to learn, so she taught him when he was young enough to appreciate it. He, like my brother and the picadillo recipe, wrote down everything she said on a piece of paper. He photocopied it to me, and that’s the one I use. As with all her recipes, it was important to follow every detail. She had a Like Water For Chocolate vibe going on. On a side note, I copied it exactly as he written it. His spelling is off, but his math-y engineering brain is top notch.

Dr. Dukeman still makes it for me when we come to visit.

Strogonoff 1-hr

• 1 Lb ground meat

• 2 cubes bullion beef cubes

• ¾ stick butter/margarine

• ¼ teaspoon mustard powder

• 2 small onions

• salt & pepper

• 3 tablespoons sour cream

• water

• noodles [and water]

1. Cook ground meat in microwave in small batches for 1 min=>20s=>10s, drain after each heating.

2. Dice and liquify onions with water almost covering top of onions.

3. Bring to boil: liquified onions, butter, beef, mustard powder, bullion cubes. Simmer on low for 45 min. Wait 25 min after start of simmer then bring 2nd pot of water to boil.

4. Cook noodles for 12 min on medium, stir occasinaly.

5. Drain/strain noodes and add sauce & sour cream.