I love mushy, soggy food, even if it is supposed to be crispy or crunchy. As well, I like eating cold food that should be hot — like a can of Campbell’s Tomato Soup straight from the fridge or a lukewarm cup off coffee. And that’s not all — I used to put my frozen ice cream in the oven to soften it. I believe these unusual eating habits are deeply rooted in my childhood and provide warm, fuzzy feelings.
There was, however, one food that stood head and shoulders above the rest. From my earliest memories, my ultimate comfort food was crummy-up. Chances are high that you have never heard of it? That’s okay, my helper Maddie and I will teach you how to make it.
The Best Custard East of the Rockies
Mom made the silkiest, smoothest, sweetest custard with eggs laid in our own hen house the day before. It tasted better than any crème brulée for which I have paid $10 in expensive restaurants. Custard required an ample supply of eggs. This is where Dad, the chicken whisperer and cleaver operator, entered the picture .Dad firmly believed that twelve hens should produce twelve eggs daily. A dark cloud descended upon the hen house if only eleven eggs were laid. The culprit had to be identified and lectured sternly.
“Okay, you birds, it’s like this. Hen feed at the CO-OP is a hefty price and I don’t feed no free loaders. If there ain’t twelve eggs tomorrow, someone’s head is coming off and Sarah will be making chicken stew for supper.”
Panic in the Hen House
Great fear and trembling swept through the hen house. Several hens strained to lay two eggs. The threat must have worked, because Mom baked custard every week. Once in a while, dinner consisted of the remains of a tough old bird who got caught living off the system.
Fast Forward to Today
I haven’t made crummy-up for years because it has 40,000 calories per mug. No oatmeal either because once I get the taste of brown sugar in my mouth I crave it for the rest of the day. Custard is nixed because Mom didn’t leave her recipe behind, although my sister-in-law Wendy’s is very similar.
Even so, I have a way to I satisfy my craving for soggy food. Mid-morning, I fill a bowl with Raisin Bran and cover it with milk and leave it on the counter until lunch time. Just before eating, I add a sliced banana and savour every mushy, squishy, spoonful. Yummmmm.
Loving mushy food has its advantages. It does? Like what? You see, even when I am a groovy granny with nary a tooth in my head, rocking alone in my old rocking chair, I will continue to enjoy my soggy Raisin Brain, oatmeal, custard and best of all, crummy-up with brown sugar and cream because I won’t care about calories or cavities.
VIVE LE CRUMMY-UP!