Potato Salad - original post date 11-9-10
Potato Salad: Often a mix of several different things - potatoes, chopped boiled eggs, chopped celery, etc.
This blog: Potato Salad. A mix of different topics. You have been warned.
When visiting my home for a family style, casual dining experience, table manners are usually somewhat lax. However, the term Ugly Americans certainly came to mind this weekend as the antique dining set I’ve been fascinated with was christened in German-style, mustard potato salad, was ultimately stabbed (and damaged *whimpers*) with a steak knife as my father attempted to cut the safety seal on a new bottle of Kraft salad dressing, and was subsequently wiped down after the meal by my mother via incredibly damp (read that as soaking wet) dishcloth.
I have not had an opportunity to find linens that will fit the table. I thought one simple meal consisting of grilled wild turkey, steak, babyback ribs, and other ‘home cooking’ comfort foods would be safe enough. I was sadly mistaken and almost driven to drinking after everyone left that night. My younger brother quipped: This set may have survived WWI, made it over here on a ship, has been moved all over the place, but was almost brought down after one meal with the Beck family.
I was horrified.
It is true, even my family’s casual table manners left something to be desired Sunday afternoon, even for a simple barbeque. My friend in Leicester has said when going out for dinner with American colleagues they are often immediately identified as “American” before they ever open their mouths. I am wondering now if it might be their table manners? ;-)
All that being said, I will have my vengeance. Crystal stemware, napkin rings, and charger plates completely baffle my father. He has an utter loathing of Styrofoam or paper plates and plastic forks and knives, but ‘get out the good stuff’ and he freaks out a little. I have a nasty plan to set butter pats, knife rests, and condiment servers (as opposed to ketchup in the plastic bottle) on the table this year at Thanksgiving and Christmas. If he complains or pokes fun at the formality, I’m going to make him eat off a Hefty plate at the children’s’ table.
In a similar vein (regarding manners and having a little class) I’ve began to put a limitation on video games and modern pop music in my household. I’ve coined it the Vienna Sausage concept. Viennies being those canned, processed, mystery meat sausages that are usually very cheap, salty, and taste marvelous when you’ve been on a lake fishing all day and haven’t had anything substantial to eat. They’re okay for a snack or when in dire straits when it comes to food choices or lack thereof. However, a steady diet of them is far from healthy.
Same goes for video games and anything by Usher or Kanye West as far as I’m concerned. Some of the songs (if you can call them that) that I’ve heard played over and over again on the radio lately consist of five or six phrases, half-way spoken, with no vocal range or singing talent at all, ran though a computer, and are spit out with computer generated melodies (if you can call them that as well). I can’t understand the main lyrics enough to decipher the name of the song and I’ve yet to figure out who the artists are. The radio station must not be too proud of them - they never announce the title or artist before or after the song in question. Said songs, in my opinion, are canned, processed, take little or no thought to create, are cheap, and in time, possibly even a matter of weeks, no one will remember the name of the song or for that matter, the artist.
I assure you, I am not getting ‘old’, but the more I think about it, the more in rebellion of modern things I’m becoming. I’ve recently taken to turning OFF my cell phone, or at least putting it on silent. Its not like in the event of an emergency my family doesn’t know where I work and I don’t like feeling like I’m being stalked by whining children when I’m at work and they don’t want to do their afternoon chores. I don’t like having a precious hour to go to lunch with my husband, and HIS phone ringing incessantly. I’ve started limiting the time spent listening to the pop radio station my daughter loves so much, and have started pulling up my Youtube playlist which consists of Norah Jones, Corienne Bailey Ray, Lightning Hopkins, Vivaldi, Strauss, and other classical masters of music. Last night, I brow beat the entire family into attending a percussion group’s performance at the local university.
Why? Culture. There were howls of protest, whining and begging, but at the very first note, seeing the delighted and surprised expressions on the faces of my children, and yes, my husband, made the previous complaints worth enduring. This group specializes, apparently, in Asian, Balinese, Javanese, Egyptian, and Middle Eastern percussion instruments. They will be opening for the Dallas Symphony in February. Some of their music is traditional, ancient, and despite the age and having come from a much older culture, they stirred the blood and… well? Moved something in the soul. Pictures were painted with no words at all, no lyrics, no computer generated bass line, and it was amazing.
By the end of the performance, my daughter leaned over and whispered: Now I know the difference between viennies and prime rib, mom.
I told her: That is the difference between “that’s sooo two weeks ago” and “That’s 2000 years old and still rocks the house.”
If anyone is curious, D’Drum is the group we had the privilege of watching last night.
All the best,
MistyK
This blog: Potato Salad. A mix of different topics. You have been warned.
When visiting my home for a family style, casual dining experience, table manners are usually somewhat lax. However, the term Ugly Americans certainly came to mind this weekend as the antique dining set I’ve been fascinated with was christened in German-style, mustard potato salad, was ultimately stabbed (and damaged *whimpers*) with a steak knife as my father attempted to cut the safety seal on a new bottle of Kraft salad dressing, and was subsequently wiped down after the meal by my mother via incredibly damp (read that as soaking wet) dishcloth.
I have not had an opportunity to find linens that will fit the table. I thought one simple meal consisting of grilled wild turkey, steak, babyback ribs, and other ‘home cooking’ comfort foods would be safe enough. I was sadly mistaken and almost driven to drinking after everyone left that night. My younger brother quipped: This set may have survived WWI, made it over here on a ship, has been moved all over the place, but was almost brought down after one meal with the Beck family.
I was horrified.
It is true, even my family’s casual table manners left something to be desired Sunday afternoon, even for a simple barbeque. My friend in Leicester has said when going out for dinner with American colleagues they are often immediately identified as “American” before they ever open their mouths. I am wondering now if it might be their table manners? ;-)
All that being said, I will have my vengeance. Crystal stemware, napkin rings, and charger plates completely baffle my father. He has an utter loathing of Styrofoam or paper plates and plastic forks and knives, but ‘get out the good stuff’ and he freaks out a little. I have a nasty plan to set butter pats, knife rests, and condiment servers (as opposed to ketchup in the plastic bottle) on the table this year at Thanksgiving and Christmas. If he complains or pokes fun at the formality, I’m going to make him eat off a Hefty plate at the children’s’ table.
In a similar vein (regarding manners and having a little class) I’ve began to put a limitation on video games and modern pop music in my household. I’ve coined it the Vienna Sausage concept. Viennies being those canned, processed, mystery meat sausages that are usually very cheap, salty, and taste marvelous when you’ve been on a lake fishing all day and haven’t had anything substantial to eat. They’re okay for a snack or when in dire straits when it comes to food choices or lack thereof. However, a steady diet of them is far from healthy.
Same goes for video games and anything by Usher or Kanye West as far as I’m concerned. Some of the songs (if you can call them that) that I’ve heard played over and over again on the radio lately consist of five or six phrases, half-way spoken, with no vocal range or singing talent at all, ran though a computer, and are spit out with computer generated melodies (if you can call them that as well). I can’t understand the main lyrics enough to decipher the name of the song and I’ve yet to figure out who the artists are. The radio station must not be too proud of them - they never announce the title or artist before or after the song in question. Said songs, in my opinion, are canned, processed, take little or no thought to create, are cheap, and in time, possibly even a matter of weeks, no one will remember the name of the song or for that matter, the artist.
I assure you, I am not getting ‘old’, but the more I think about it, the more in rebellion of modern things I’m becoming. I’ve recently taken to turning OFF my cell phone, or at least putting it on silent. Its not like in the event of an emergency my family doesn’t know where I work and I don’t like feeling like I’m being stalked by whining children when I’m at work and they don’t want to do their afternoon chores. I don’t like having a precious hour to go to lunch with my husband, and HIS phone ringing incessantly. I’ve started limiting the time spent listening to the pop radio station my daughter loves so much, and have started pulling up my Youtube playlist which consists of Norah Jones, Corienne Bailey Ray, Lightning Hopkins, Vivaldi, Strauss, and other classical masters of music. Last night, I brow beat the entire family into attending a percussion group’s performance at the local university.
Why? Culture. There were howls of protest, whining and begging, but at the very first note, seeing the delighted and surprised expressions on the faces of my children, and yes, my husband, made the previous complaints worth enduring. This group specializes, apparently, in Asian, Balinese, Javanese, Egyptian, and Middle Eastern percussion instruments. They will be opening for the Dallas Symphony in February. Some of their music is traditional, ancient, and despite the age and having come from a much older culture, they stirred the blood and… well? Moved something in the soul. Pictures were painted with no words at all, no lyrics, no computer generated bass line, and it was amazing.
By the end of the performance, my daughter leaned over and whispered: Now I know the difference between viennies and prime rib, mom.
I told her: That is the difference between “that’s sooo two weeks ago” and “That’s 2000 years old and still rocks the house.”
If anyone is curious, D’Drum is the group we had the privilege of watching last night.
All the best,
MistyK