And All This Time I Thought I Was Sorta Sweet
It being Halloween, I figure I should let you know just what a scary person I am.
Apparently, if you listen to Mark Warner, I’m rather threatening to the average American. NRA? Check. Christian? Check. Pro-lifer? Check. Home schooler? Used to be. OK, so technically I may only be 75% scary. Boo!
(If he’d only add “Southern” and “Irish dancer” to the list, I’d be, like, the ULTIMATE WEAPON! Evil dictators would be ponying up “one million dollars” for me and my threatening self. I’m so ninja.)
WASP Heritage = Wonder Bread and Velveeta?
I’m feeling a tiny bit put upon. Today is “Heritage Day” at school. Three of the Fantastic Quads are doing this big project for their Social Studies class. They each have a shoe box and were supposed to fill it with items relating to their heritage to turn in yesterday. And today, they were supposed to bring in a food to celebrate their ancestry. Think a Gin and Tonic would be inappropriate? We are so white bread.
We pretty much just concentrated on the ancestors we had actual paperwork for. On my side of the family, one of my ancestors (last name Gatchell or Getchell) came from England to the US in 1603. 1603! So pretty much any American food is our food. I finally dug up a recipe for Banbury Cakes that date back to the 1500’s in England. Lemme tell you, they are delicious! Lots of butter and sugar and puff pastry–how can you go wrong? Sort of a pain to make, and too messy for me to set the kids free on, so I spent the whole day yesterday making them.
As for the Irish ancestors on Sugar Daddy’s side, I made Irish Soda Bread. I know, boring. But EASY. Only after I bought the ingredients did I research it and find out that this bread first came into being when baking soda was introduced in Ireland in the 1840’s. The decade after his family moved to America. Too damn bad, I had already bought two quarts of buttermilk and would not waste it. After I made it, I realized that had I thrown in a handful of golden raisins, it would have been called Spotted Dick. I’d have loved to send in some with a big sign announcing what it’s called. I’m so mean to my kids!
Maybe I should have just explained that our ancestors all moved to the South after they got here, and then sent in buckets of fried chicken, some watermelon rind pickles, and biscuits. Now that makes me think of my relatives!
