Strasbourg Goose
I've seen this term in old English and American books, from around the time of Louisa May Alcott...apparently the best fois gras was from Strasbourg geese. I thought of this the other day as I was spreading "mousse" de fois gras on my fleur du Rhin baguette. It's what we called liver sausage growing up - you know the Oscar Mayer tube of squishy stuff that was always a mystery to open? We sliced off the end of the tube, which meant we scraped the stuff out of that end with our teeth. I can still see front-tooth stripes added to the stripes of the gathered plastic wrap.
I can also still see the slices of the thicker stuff my Dad would bring home from a deli somewhere. He and I would sit at the table...I don't remember any of the other kids being there...eating slices drizzled with white vinegar and black pepper, sometimes with raw green onions and a pile of salt to dip them in. This must have been from his childhood in German Chicago. I'm sure I've seen Germans over across the river doing the same thing!
I sprinkled my mousse with white vinegar and black pepper the other day, too.
I wonder sometimes at God's sense of humor. He must have laughed (I think in a very happy way), when I was eating those slices at that table in southern California's bland tract-home land, knowing that some day I would be eating it in Strasbourg. He also must have smiled when my Dad travelled around Europe 10 years ago and loved Strasbourg best of all.
When Dad brought home Chinese green "Mao" caps in the 1970's, who knew I'd eventually be able to wander around the paddies and Asian megalopoli? He also put Orthodox icons on our walls, which came back to mind when we moved to Macedonia....It would have been fun then to know what was coming. Little hints that weren't hints until decades later.
And now I'm going full circle back to Indiana, which I left California for in the 1980's. I have stayed very close to the same latitude all the way around the earth, and back I go.
By the way, son #2 said the other day that living in a village in the U.S. would be nicer than a city. I've been trying to decide whether to help him change his vocabulary before we get there, or just let him adjust. Maybe the more important words....liver sausage, tract home. It'll come.
I can also still see the slices of the thicker stuff my Dad would bring home from a deli somewhere. He and I would sit at the table...I don't remember any of the other kids being there...eating slices drizzled with white vinegar and black pepper, sometimes with raw green onions and a pile of salt to dip them in. This must have been from his childhood in German Chicago. I'm sure I've seen Germans over across the river doing the same thing!
I sprinkled my mousse with white vinegar and black pepper the other day, too.
When Dad brought home Chinese green "Mao" caps in the 1970's, who knew I'd eventually be able to wander around the paddies and Asian megalopoli? He also put Orthodox icons on our walls, which came back to mind when we moved to Macedonia....It would have been fun then to know what was coming. Little hints that weren't hints until decades later.
And now I'm going full circle back to Indiana, which I left California for in the 1980's. I have stayed very close to the same latitude all the way around the earth, and back I go.
By the way, son #2 said the other day that living in a village in the U.S. would be nicer than a city. I've been trying to decide whether to help him change his vocabulary before we get there, or just let him adjust. Maybe the more important words....liver sausage, tract home. It'll come.
I can still see those Teall-teeth streaks on the plastic too Pattie, hahah!! (: I don't know if I can bring myself to eat liver sausage again .. but every once in a while I just ccrraaaave the sliced liver sausage with vinegar and pepper. There is nothing else that tastes like that! (:
ReplyDeleteAnd I thiiiiink Gramma Teall brought those Mao hats back from when she and Grampa went to Egypt. I thiiiiink. But ... I also think I have the worst (wurst!) memory in the family, so who knows .. they could have come from the swap meet, hahaha (:
Thanks for writing this stuff -- makes me have happy memories at the forefront of my noggin!
OH! I also have one of those orthodox icons (the Mary painting) if you want to bring a little of you back to Muncie (:
ReplyDeleteDad had a friend named Von - remember him? big moustache? He brought the Mao hats back from China sometime when we were all still on Kingston. Funny how the little details stick.
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