”Lasting Lessons”

~ Elizabeth
Unsplash photo by Filipino Mroz

Reading a post about scalloped potatoes from a blogger friend I thought back about the lessons my mother thought essential. Four were paramount and I have no idea why she thought them imperative.

  1. Ironing a man’s dress shirt.
  2. Making white sauce.
  3. Making giblet gravy on Thanksgiving.
  4. Never learning to play Bridge.

I tried to find an image of ironing a dress shirt. Amusingly enough these were all instructions for men. I did learn this skill, but it has rarely been needed.

Learning to make white sauce, on the contrary, has proven invaluable. It was first key to making creamed tuna when the kids were young. With the knowledge of butter and flour thickening milk into sauce I have found similar recipes easy.

Giblet gravy is really a step up from white sauce. Instead of milk I use broth from simmering the parts with onion. Instead of butter I use fat from the roasted turkey. Thanksgiving wouldn’t be celebrated here without the giblet gravy. Sadly it seems to gross out younger generations. Charlie and I have it to ourselves!

And Bridge? I was never tempted since no one ever asked me to learn. I did however learn a wide variety of poker games. Perhaps they may have led me down the forbidden path Bridge opened. But the prohibition against Bridge specifically, shouted as I boarded the train for college, remains a mystery.


26 thoughts on “”Lasting Lessons””

      1. Yes, I wear cotton shirts during the summer, and have to do a ‘batch-iron’ to last each week. During the winter though I rarely have to iron anything. At least we have a huge steam-generator iron, and it is so powerful it irons both sides at once. 🙂

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  2. Strangely, my mother also showed me how to iron a shirt – I’ve no idea why. I can’t recall when I learned to make a roux for white sauce; it may even have been school cookery lessons. I don’t recall Mum teaching me much in the way of cooking, but I probably wasn’t a very receptive learner in my early teens. I remember watching Nan as a toddler though as she gutted and prepared a chicken; kids aren’t sqeamish, are they? I didn’t even mind the smell back then. We lived in Nan’s house until my father bought his own and Nan came to live with us. Her stock pot was always on the boil for gravy – giblets for chicken (and turkey at Christmas) and beef bones from the butcher for Sunday roasts. My first husband was trained as a chef, so I picked up a lot of cookery basics when I was going out with him.
    I am fascinated by your stricture on Bridge though. I have never felt the urge to learn, but suddenly, I’m interested.

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    1. I hate to be responsible for you taking up this forbidden game! I was nearly entirely self taught in cooking. I loved it, especially baking. For my mother it was a pretty onerous task. As was ironing my father’s shirts which is why I think she handed them off to me.

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  3. Ah you had a mum list. My brother and I were taught various basics before university but nothing like don’t learn bridge. Love it even if it’s reasoning remains obscure

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  4. In college, they were ALWAYS looking for a fourth. You’d be pulled into a game when you desperately needed to study for a test. I never learned to play bridge and am happy with that.

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    1. I think this must have been what happened to my mother though she never said so directly. She was in college during the War so no men around. I think she knitted helmet liners and played bridge. She never mentioned studies at all!

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  6. Your top three are staples for me, too. Bridge was never a thing with my parents, but playing cards was a big thing with Hubby’s family. The memories of family card games are some of the best.

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