Kris Schmidt
Our mom always said that we came from good peasant stock. As a kid I had daydreamed about our French heritage, hoping we may be distantly related to royalty, or even better, Joan of Arc. But eventually I figured out what it really meant: we had sturdy legs, wide feet and big appetites.
We in the Richard family were not picky eaters. Our dad, in particular, enjoyed preparing foods that I am pretty sure none of my friends would even try: braised pressed chicken, big fat dumplings, steak tartare, and even calves brains. This was a Sunday brunch rarity, and as our dad set the serving plate on the table, he would deadpan, “Here, have some brains. They’ll make you smarter.”
But our all-time favorite was a holiday peasant’s dish Dad would prepare, simply referred to as “meat dressing.” There was no recipe, only a few ingredients: ground chuck, Sunbeam bread, onions, salt, pepper, and sage.
While in college, my roommate, Sharon, and I thought it would be great fun to celebrate a Friendsgiving Dinner before we headed home for Thanksgiving break. Sharon was in charge of the turkey and cranberry sauce. I volunteered to take care of the dressing.
It was a snap to remember the six ingredients, but I was clueless when it came to the right proportions. Knowing sage was a key flavor, I popped into my Home Ec advisor’s office and quickly asked, “How much sage should I use in a dressing?” Like me, she had no idea.
That evening, the turkey and conversation were a big success. The dressing, might be termed at best, experimental. (I should have called my dad.)
Once married, Thanksgiving celebrations changed. So, too, did the dressing recipe—for the better, I thought, thanks to my tinkering . However, when our kids were old enough to express their favorite foods, the dressing did not make the list. I then created a new recipe, with multi-grained breads replacing the meat, a variety of tasty seasonings added. Meat dressing 3.0 is now at the top of their list.
Stubbornly, I continue to make a small casserole dish of the original peasant recipe, just for me--and in case any other Richards stop by.