Your first memorable dining experience?

Reading the kid-friendly thread prompts me to ask, "Can you recall your first memorable eating experience?" My grandfather was a trawler, so shrimp, fish, and crabs were ubiquitous fixtures around the house. My first real recollection of eating something out of the ordinary was when I was about 5, and I had my first exposure to Chinese food. I thought it looked so alien, like a repast from another galaxy; yet, when I finally begrudgingly tried it, it tasted so amazing, unlike (obviously) anything I had ever had! Luckily, my mother was fairly adamant about exposing me to different cuisines when I was young (yet her adventursome palate has since retired ), and, according to MY theory, this early exposure has spawned a seemingly lieflong quest for new and interesting flavors.

My first shaky exposure to Mexican food was at a joint called "Panchos", where you'd herd through a buffet line, as many times as you'd like, and once the pangs of dessert were upon you, you'd raise a little Mexican flag at your table for a waitperson to bring you a basket of sopapillas. Tres authentic, yo. Oh yeah....that first Chinese restaurant was a "Takee Outee".

My Dad used to be in the hotel business, so I was exposed to both fine dining and the catering business at a very early age. When we used to go out to dinner at a restaurant in one of his hotels, when the check came he would just sign it and we were done. I can remember one time going to an Italian restaurant in one of his hotels and when the bill came, asking if I could sign the check. I was so proud, but got the rude awakening when I got a bill in the mail for the dinner (my Dad's little joke).

Funny that you mention Chinese restaurant in the first post. Mine was there too, but the expereience was just the opposite. I was probably about 4 years old at the time. I don't think I had ever seen anybody that was Chinese. For that matter, I don't know that I'd ever seen anybody that wasn't lily white at that point in my life.

I remember being with my mother and a friend of hers for lunch at the Pekin House on Devon. I remember being very scared of the people there and refused to even consider eating the 'weird' food. And when I say I was scared, I'm talking screaming and yelling at the wait staff scared.

Somehow or other they were able to serve me a hamburger. I'm pretty sure it wasn't something they had on the menu. But I think that finally got me stop being a brat of a kid.

First memorable restaurant experience was at the Millionaire's Club (Michigan Avenue? Something to do with the Carson's restaurants?). It was a family Christmas Celebration intended to give grandma a well-earned rest. Do not remember the food, just the rather red decor and the thrill of being at a MILLIONAIRE'S Club.

Second was at KonTiki Ports about a year later. I remember the food well, the various "ports" were enchanting to seven year old me. Ate something with scallops in an orange sauce that delighted me. I had never had fish/seafood beyond Friday night fishsticks during Lent and Arthur Treacher's Fish and Chips. Mmmm...

Love this thread--I have been asking family and friends to share their "firsts" with me for years. They all think I'm a bit obsessed. I am. Here's why: My first remembered restaurant experience was at the Jersey shore when I was a toddler. My Dad took us on an outing in our new 1957 Chevrolet and we stopped at one of the supper clubs that proliferated in that era (think Brown Derby et al.) The place, indeed the meal itself is lost in the vault somewhere, but the smell! The smell remains as clear to me now as it was in that early moment. First: baked asphalt yielding to waves of airconditioning as we entered. Then lobster, rich and slightly fishy, starched linens, fresh-baked rolls, leather banquettes and wood paneling mixed in with an iced relish tray and cigarette smoke! I swear I still encounter this and its descendants on rare occasions. . .

Pizza and fried chicken with honey at The Spot on Foster in Evanston; hamburgers and salad bar while watching black and white silent movies and throwing peanut shells on the floor at the Ground Round in Wilmette; dearly departed Michaelini's on Central Street for pizza; chicken and "country" burgers at The Little Red Hen prior to Michaelini's taking over the same location; hot dogs at Mustard's. . . .

My early dining-out experiences of course are focused on Indianapolis, but here are a few I'll throw out there for those who may have some familiarity:

Burger Chef. Let me repeat, "Burger Chef". Please review here: Burger Chef History Page

Hansel and Gretel restaurant, northeast side. Don't remember much other than this is the first restaurant I knew by name (other than Burger Chef).

Mandarin Gardens, both the original at 42nd and Keystone and the Carmel branch. Hoosier-Cantonese at its finest (I remember my 3-year old self being talked into eating "Chinese Chicken" and cherry-sauced spare ribs, and wondering what all those things might be inside the egg rolls).

The hundreds of trips to Laughner's, MCL and other cafeterias. I know I've posted elsewhere on the cafeteria thing, but really, it's amazing to think we had at least six or eight regular cafeterias in addition to the Laughner's/MCL chains. Probably had over 500 Hoosier cafeteria meals in my life, mostly as a young'un.

Hollyhock Hill. Hoosier farm dinners, including the best fried chicken imaginable, relish trays, apple butter for the biscuits, and served here daily with just enough class to also be a suitable prom date. And sitting on the northside plopped right among the multi-million dollar mansions of Williams Creek. (Many of those millionaires being the best customers of Hollyhock, naturally enough.)

My family traveled a lot when I was a kid, as my dad was pilot for TWA. We spent a lot of time in AZ and CA, so I remember eating my first Mexican food at 5 or so, visiting the Farmers Market in LA at about the same age, and my first memorable Chinese food at the Empress of China in San Francisco at 8 or so. The first big-time meal was at the Ritz in Madrid, Spain at 10 or so; I had sea bass with bearnaise sauce (!), and I can remember it as if it happened yesterday. That was quite a memorable trip - I think I enjoyed the cuisine more than my mother did, seriously. I remember a couple of little things very clearly - having wild strawberries with OJ in the morning, and seeing someone eat a HUGE bowl of baby eels for the first time, in a tapas bar. Spain in the 60's was very interesting, to say the least....

Around here, we used to go to some of those wonderful old places out in the far-off suburbs - Plentywood Farm, The Mill Race Inn, Honey Bear Farm at Lake Geneva, and the Milk Pail ( I clearly recall having a pheasant club sandwich or two - they raised their own game there). And I am another kid who went to Kon Tiki Ports, too, every year on my birthday, followed by a movie downtown. I loved getting a kiddie cocktail in a whole pineapple. Very sophisticated!

My first has to be at Moishe's steakhouse in Montreal when I was 5 or 6, coming back to my city of birth to visit relatives. I remember the wood platters, the relish tray and the giant steak knives. But my most vivid memory is the smell of those giant leather banquettes! At the time, I just assumed every steak came with chopped liver....

My Neapolitan grandfather always took us out to eat, and a favorite place of his, and the first restaurant I ever remember going to, was Petticone's. This old school Italian joint, allegedly torched in the early sixties, had this kid-pleasing apres dinner grande finale: a cart that came around, filled with pastries and anise candy and strange little seed pods (tamarind? seems unlikely for an Italian place) -- and you could eat all you wanted. My grandfather, much to my mother's dismay, always encouraged us to fill our pockets before we left.

The Wife (of whose existence I was not aware until the late sixties) also remembers Petticone's as a major childhood event. I have done a few web searches, but have turned up nothing about this old place, and would be very surprised (though pleased) if anyone on LTH knows anything about this long-gone place.

Hammond

David Hammond wrote:My Neapolitan grandfather always took us out to eat, and a favorite place of his, and the first restaurant I ever remember going to, was Petticone's. This old school Italian joint, allegedly torched in the early sixties, had this kid-pleasing apres dinner grande finale: a cart that came around, filled with pastries and anise candy and strange little seed pods (tamarind? seems unlikely for an Italian place) -- and you could eat all you wanted. My grandfather, much to my mother's dismay, always encouraged us to fill our pockets before we left.

The Wife (of whose existence I was not aware until the late sixties) also remembers Petticone's as a major childhood event. I have done a few web searches, but have turned up nothing about this old place, and would be very surprised (though pleased) if anyone on LTH knows anything about this long-gone place.

Hammond

Didn't they make a TV show out of it after it closed? Petticone Junction?

Mine are all NY memories.

Sun Luck (there were three of these moderately upscale American-Chinese places in Manhattan) There was a Sun-Luck East, a West and an Imperial. I was introduced to eggroll and spare ribs and, probably for 10 years or more, never could bring myself to order anything but that. Not because i wasn't interested, but because I couldn't bear the thought of missing any opportunity to have them. (Though I'm sure I tried tastes off other plates.)

Fried clam rolls at the Howard Johnson's near the Bronx Zoo with my grandfather (after a brain-rattlingly bumpy camel ride). Fried clams were the only thing I was ever interested in at HoJo's.

Ciro's - a "Northern Italian" place about 20 minutes from our house in Yorktown Heights, whither we moved from the Bronx. It was our regular special occasion place. It was there I was introduced to mussels, baked clams with breadcrumbs, coquilles St. Jacques and the other standards of the era: veal saltimbocca, veal marsala, etc. Many entrees came with potato croquettes, which I adored beyond measure.

My father would terrify us by ordering octopus. (There must have been calimari, but I don't remember it.)

For dessert, there was either coup au marrons, or melon surprise - basically, a sundae built inside half a cantelope. I highly recommend it.

Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my nostalgia-misted eyes.

Mom was a war bride who emigrated to the U.S. after the Korean War (dad was in the Navy). She was a city girl, born and raised in Tokyo, and accustomed to eating out as part of the social ritual of shopping. There use to be an A & P store south of the Biograph Theatre and next door to the A & P, a Chinese restaurant with dark booths that had dark sliding curtains that were kept closed. I unfortunately don't remember the food, only the friendly face when the order was taken and the check was presented and the mysterious hands that would appear thru the curtains when our food was served. It was Chinese food but it was the closest thing to Japanese that was in the neighborhood at that time. This and eating ice cream at the Woolworth's counter across the street are my earliest memories of dining out.

mrbarolo wrote:Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my nostalgia-misted eyes.

This makes me feel kind of weepy, too!

What a great topic! I have so many formative dining experineces that it would be hard to just limit it to one.

My family liked to eat out alot. This, during a time when the concept of "kid friendly" was nonexistent. We were expected to be on our best behavior and knew that eating out was a privilege. We used to go to The Parthenon quite often and that and Pizzeria Uno were some of my earliest memories. My dad knew the cook at Uno's and she would let us come into the kitchen every now and then. Benihana was also a favorite of ours, mostly my brother, and that place had alot to do with why he is a chef today.

My summers were spent in Mexico and some of my favorite meals were always in the markets. My aunts would go the the Merced market every Saturday morning to buy the weekly provisions. My mom came from a big family and when I was a kid, I still had a bunch of aunts and uncles living at home. My brother and I would get up at the crack of dawn so we could go with them. The first order of business was breakfast, and my aunts knew where all the good eats were. My regulars were either enchiladas with mole or huaraches. I only recently discovered the Ricos Huaraches at the Maxwell street market and they are truly the closest I have ever had here in Chicago to the real deal.

My most embarassing meal ever was when I was a teen. My Dad took me out to Ireland's on LaSalle for a lobster dinner to celebrate my (ahem) "becoming a woman" and he proceeded to tell the waiter of this momentous occasion. I wanted to crawl under the table.

On Christmas Eve we used to go to Burhop's downtown (can't remember the exact location) to buy lobster and crab and then to Sam's for wine (when it was still in the old building on North and Halsted and you had to pass through the gauntlet of winos to get in and then downstairs to the fine wine section).

My first formal dinner party was an event hosted in honor of my grandfather at the home of my mom's best friend. I must have been 14. She laid out the best china, crystal, and flatware. It was back in the 70's and I still recall the shrimp in aspic starter and probably my first taste of a great Bordeaux.

I went on to start a tradition in high school where my girlfriends and I would get together around Christmas and cook a formal meal, wear fancy clothes and drink great wine. Well, I probably wouldn't consider it great wine now, but back when we were not even old enough to drink, a bottle of Robert Mondavi was a pretty big deal.

I will never forget my summer in Spain when I discovered olives and paella, cooked by a relative over an open pit flame at their summer home on the mediterranean, south of Valencia. It was the real deal.

Food has been such an important part of my life and it was these formative meals that made me always seek out street food, market vendors, neighborhood joints, and top destination tables all over the world.

I feel lucky.

Winebabe,
I too feel lucky to have been exposed to great food all of my life. And I feel lucky that you shared that really nice post with us. My family also has a Christmas eve tradition of going to Burhop's in the morning for the evening meal. Instead of Sam's we stopped at Pompeii for pizza and Superior Bakery for bread.
My earliest dining memory was a French meal at a hotel, I can't remember which one, where Franz Butler played the violin. I read an interview with the new chef (Kevin Hickey?) at the Ritz Carlton where he said that since his mom didn't cook he spent many holidays with Franz Butler. It was there, and many subsequent meals at great places like the Pump Room and The Dining Room at the Ritz where I learned to enjoy and respect dining. I plan on doing the same with my kids some day.
I really enjoy hearing everyone's memories! Thanks for sharing!

By the way, my most embarrassing meal also took place with my Dad. Since he worked a lot we went out on a lot of father/daughter "dates." A favorite place of mine was a popular and short-lived '80's restaurant I believe called Alexander's in River North. Before cell phones it seemed that my dad was always leaving me alone at the table to take and make phone calls. On one such occasion, our food arrived in his absence. I finally dug into my prime rib and as I was cutting into it, it slid in its au jus across the plate and into my lap. I was mortified and my dad gave the bathroom attendant a nice tip to help me get cleaned up. I have loved bathroom attendants ever since.

JimInLoganSquare wrote:My early dining-out experiences of course are focused on Indianapolis, but here are a few I'll throw out there for those who may have some familiarity:

Burger Chef. Let me repeat, "Burger Chef". Please review here: Burger Chef History Page

Ahh, Burger Chef and Jeff! I remember this not for any specific food moment but more for all the new words I learned when my father's friend's car had a radiator hose let go in the parking lot. He only knew how to do one thing with a car - check the oil. He must have checked that dipstick a dozen times while my dad kept telling him he needed a new rad hose. He finally decided that it was the fault of the car and reeled off a number of words my young mind dutifully stored away for future use.

My family rarely ate out at any restaurant except the Maid-Rite, a drive-in, altho there were a few seats inside. My parents liked to eat there -- the food was fast and cheap (this was way before McDonald's), and they would always tell my sister and me stories about how they went there on dates before they were married.

The specialty at Maid-Rite is the ground-meat sandwich, essentially fried ground beef and onions on a hamburger bun, best with just yellow mustard, IMO. This particular place sold Sealtest dairy products, so their (real) chocolate malteds came in a Sealtest paper cup that looked like a fully-open milk carton.

Maid-Rites are still around. I saw one in the Quad-Cities last time I was there visiting my mom, but we couldn't stop. I think they might be a western Illinois phenomenon, because the only people I've ever met who are familiar with Maid-Rites have been from the Illinois/Iowa area.

The other meal that stands out in my memory is a Thanksgiving dinner at one of those "supper clubs" when I was about 11 or so. My mom went on strike for Thanksgiving...said she didn't like to cook Thanksgiving dinner and just wasn't going to do it that year. Hmmm...a dilemma. This was my favorite holiday. Eating anywhere but home was unthinkable. So Dad said he'd take us out to eat. I don't remember much about the meal except that I felt so uncomfortable -- I was used to eating at the Maid-Rite; what did I know about linen tablecloths and water goblets and such? -- I was miserable the whole time and probably whined all the way thru dinner.

Mom said, "Fine. You want Thanksgiving dinner at home next year? Then you can cook it." And I did, aided by my 7-year-old sister. She and I did most of the Thanksgiving cooking for then on. Thanksgiving is still my favorite holiday, and I still do all the cooking.

Carol wrote:Mom said, "Fine. You want Thanksgiving dinner at home next year? Then you can cook it." And I did, aided by my 7-year-old sister. She and I did most of the Thanksgiving cooking for then on. Thanksgiving is still my favorite holiday, and I still do all the cooking.

Carol:

Great story. In large part because I can completely understand how your mother felt but also how you felt. Cooking is so much fun and yet, it can also be a real chore.

Antonius

Carol,

Just how old were you when you and your sister cooked Thanksgiving dinner? 12? I was around the same age when I took over Thanksgiving dinner.

Maid-Rite refers to their signature offering as a loose meat sandwich. I wish I still had my menu from the last Maid Rite I visited, they considered their meat not fried, but rather steamed. It was considered healthier than a hamburger. Just looking around at DIY recipes, they have added water and boullion.

You mentioned in another thread you grew up around Bishop Hill. I have a friend who lives south of Dixon. Her town is so small, they do not even have a Maid Rite; though I suspect you had to go some distance to find yours. You have to go to Amboy to find something approaching fast food. There is a building, which appears to be a former Dairy Queen, with a few older local women manning the shop. Everything is made to order that you have to find something to read to kill time while they cook. They also have a seasonal menu, serving creamed chicken on biscuits after October or November 1st. I have yet to hit it right to have the creamed chicken.

Regards,

I don't know the real name of the place I remember from childhood in Rochester, MN. We called it Mike-to-Mikes. It was the first drive-though in town. You drove through outside from one microphone to the next to place your food order. What a novel experience! I'm not sure what was on the menu, because we only ordered one thing, Zebra Cones (vanilla ice cream mixed with chocolate cake).

It was across the street from Silver Lake, a lake populated by more than 50,000 Canadian geese. King Leo and Henri's were the first fast-food places to come to town, way before McDonalds.

It is a great memory for me, my parents, four other siblings and myself, packed in an un-air-conditioned station wagon, licking our brown and white cones while watching the geese take-off and land.

Cathy2 wrote:Carol,

Just how old were you when you and your sister cooked Thanksgiving dinner? 12? I was around the same age when I took over Thanksgiving dinner.

Maid-Rite refers to their signature offering as a loose meat sandwich. I wish I still had my menu from the last Maid Rite I visited, they considered their meat not fried, but rather steamed. It was considered healthier than a hamburger. Just looking around at DIY recipes, they have added water and boullion.

You mentioned in another thread you grew up around Bishop Hill. I have a friend who lives south of Dixon. Her town is so small, they do not even have a Maid Rite; though I suspect you had to go some distance to find yours. You have to go to Amboy to find something approaching fast food. There is a building, which appears to be a former Dairy Queen, with a few older local women manning the shop. Everything is made to order that you have to find something to read to kill time while they cook. They also have a seasonal menu, serving creamed chicken on biscuits after October or November 1st. I have yet to hit it right to have the creamed chicken.

Regards,

Cathy2, Yep, I was 12; my sister was 7. We didn't do a bad job, as I recall. From then on, we did a good deal of the TG cooking. Why did you take on TG at such a young age?

You're right: I seem to recall that Maid-Rite meat was "steamed," not fried. I'd forgotten that. I will definitely visit what might be the last remaining one the next time I visit my Mom, and I will report back.

In small-town IL, you have to drive long distances for everything. (These towns are barely surviving -- some of them don't even have food markets, let alone restaurants, which is why I was so excited to find that incredible restaurant in Kewanee I talked about in another thread.) The Maid-Rite was 15 or 20 miles from our house. To this day, you have to drive 15 miles to get to the closest McDonald's.

I think the Amboy restaurant you mentioned must be unique. In my western IL experiences, most restaurant menus don't feature fresh foods: They're replete with chicken fingers, instant mashed potatoes, and canned gravy and vegetables. DH and I once ordered a meal at a little restaurant off I-80, took one look at the food, and I said, "There isn't an ounce of real food on this table." It was frozen processed turkey breast, Wonder bread, canned gravy, canned gray green beans, jello, and, swear to God, the "rolls" consisted of hamburger buns in a basket (with margarine, no butter; and no cream for tea, only nondairy "creamer.") The Amboy restaurant sounds like a welcomed aberration.

I could definitely go for some zebra ice cream...

As the oldest child, there's wasn't much fine dining until my youngest sib (5 years younger) was able to handle "restaurant voice" -- something we've been pretty good at with our own kids.

So there was more takeout when I was a kid than restaurant dining. That also makes sense coupled with my father commuting and picking things up on the way home, compared with my wife and I both working out of our house. KFC in the bucket, Browns Chicken with the orange-colored slaw and fried mushrooms, cantonese takeout such as Beef with Peapods, Cashew Chicken and Shrimp with Lobster Sauce (which I remember as a deep brown color, not this clear, cornstarch thickened goo I tend to get these days).

Highlights of going out to eat usually meant things like HoJo's batter fried clams on a Wednesday, the Burger King in Skokie (now a car rental place) that used to serve crinkly fries, ice cream at the Cock Robin on Skokie Blvd (yeah, I'm old), and rare trips out to Superdawg. More infrequently, Carson's Ribs (usually in Skokie, near my grandmother's co-op -- where Jews go to violate kashrut!).

When we went on vacations -- often to my other grandparents in Miami -- there were some opportunities to splurge: Rustic Inn for garlic blue crabs in Miami was always memorable, plus my aunt and uncle who lived down there knew all the good seafood and Cuban. Rocky Graziani's for chicken parmesan was always visited, plus key lime pie, conch fritters in the keys, etc.

If we did get a chance to go out for a fancy meal. my sibs and I had a hierarchy of what we'd cajole our folks into letting us have: Prime Rib, Baby Back Ribs (although we'd send back meat jello -- Carson's may not be the Real Deal, but they did teach us what they ought to feel like) or Fried Jumbo Shrimp.

I've been pondering a response to this thread trying to identify the earliest memory that was not the old fashioned Burger Chef, A & W Root Beer, MacDonald's, Bonanza, and Ponderosa type places from the early 60's. Those I'm sure are pretty standard for many.

I don't remember the name of the restaurant, but I grew up in Lawrence, Kansas and remember my parents taking the family out to dinner and most of the time it was to places as noted above. However, the first time I got to order what I wanted off the menu. I looked over the menu and chose to make my "adult choice" of rainbow trout, a fish I had never seen, nor ever seen my parents eat. I was surprised when they brought the whole fish out on a plate. Fortunately, I recogized that I had to pretend I was expecting exactly what I got and everything was fine as I choked down the trout that was looking at me. It was good, but the eyes made it strange. I ate trout everytime we ate there.

I still like trout too.

Bruce wrote:I don't remember the name of the restaurant, but I grew up in Lawrence, Kansas .

Isn't Lawrence KS the home of Cozy Inn? I have a friend in Kansas City that never tires of telling me how good the burgers are there. He even has a Cozy Inn decal on his tool box.

Although I have been told we occasionally stopped at the original Hot Shoppe, apparently we never age in, instead using the carhops. I just don't remember. Hot Shoppe(s) were the beginning of the Marriot family fortune, based on industrialization and standardization of all things hostelry and culinary. My first memory of eating out in a restaurant was ca. 1963, after dropping my father off for a 12-week trip (literally) around the globe at DC National Airport, my mother, with 6 kids ages 2-10 in tow (those in the know will think there might be Irish twins in there:-) took us to a Chinese restaurant.

She was probably already a bit blue, and the fact that we were not particularly well-behaved (some of us really out of line), but when led by my older brother almost all the kids demanded hamburgers, she almost started to cry. She and I shared some food that I simply cannot remember, except that we ate it (I at least tried) with chopsticks. I do remember how gracious the owners of this restaurant were, and how they brought us all navel oranges (still a bit of a novelty at that time) for dessert.

For years afterward, I practiced my chopsticks technique on navel orange segments.

This was in about February. We monitored my father's progress on a National Geographic map of the world in our breakfast nook, and we all learned quite a bit of geography that way, by sticking pins into the map. The weather got better and everyone's spirits improved.

annieb wrote: Hot Shoppe(s) were the beginning of the Marriot family fortune, based on industrialization and standardization of all things hostelry and culinary.

Oh god, Hot Shoppe!

My only encounter with them was being led into one after another of those on the 8th-grade trip to DC. Responses to the food included such comments as "What's that slop?" by one outspoken student (not me, I wish I could take that credit) and the naming of "Dreaded Veal Cutlet." Those were not happy eating times.

Okay, I've been pondering this topic too. Not sure it's my first dining memory, but I remember as a kid a special occasion - frequently for brunch - going to the Oasis - usually the one near O'Hare on I-290 - and watching all the cars driving by underneath. It was a Fred Harvey restaurant then - IIRC a white tablecloth place (I might be romanticising it on that point). I loved the shrimp cocktail. My guess is that the guv's friends who control food at the Oases these days don't even offer shrimp cocktail.

Like I said, I don't remember Hot Shoppe, other than the location near our house, on the way home from church when it was still fasting from midnight the night before. My mother was choir director, we all attended 11:30 high mass across the river, no breakfast before. We were HUNGRY by then.

I do also remember the white tablecloth oases from 1964 trip to visit older relatives in northwest Illinois. For years I had this incredible desire to revisit that one experience. When I see them under construction it still pops into my mind that they might come back resembling that original vision.

Hey, I just thought of another early dining out memory. Does anyone remember Johnsen's? It was on the corner of Cicero and Peterson (where a LaSalle Bank now resides.) It was sort of a supper club kind of place. I remember them bringing out the triple relish tray/lazy suzan of cottage cheese, kidney bean salad and vinegar cole slaw. My brother and I used to love that rotating tray! The main course was always fried chicken IIRC.

I just recalled a buried memory. My father was in charge of the kitchen when he was married to my mom, and by her accounts, he was quite the adventuresome cook. It must have been to his amazement and delight when I said that "I MUST try kidney pie". If I recall correctly, I had just caught a blurb about kidney pie in a Peanuts strip, so needless to say, I was enthralled!

Remember, however, that this a hazy recollection, but I seem to recall the kidney pie arriving in a tin, not unlike Spam, and my father's beaming countenance carrying the precious cargo into the kitchen. When he finally affirmed that, yes, indeed there were organ meats in the dish, my face no doubt took upon a horrific rictus.....but, dammit, it was kidney time. Do or die.

Finally, I just ended up eating around the "mush" of the pie to appease my father and my own sense of curiosity!! Whew...must've been 25-26 years ago. I guess I need to give it another shot.