Cutting the end of the roast

There was a young mother making a roast for her family and her daughter was helping her prepare everything. The mother cut the end off the roast and then placed it in the roasting pan. The daughter asked, "How come you cut off the end?" The mother replied, "Well, that's the way my mother always made her roast, but I don't really know why she did it. Let's call her and ask her." So, the woman called her mother and asked her why she cut the end off her roast. Her mother replied, "Because that's the way my mother made her roast." This got her to thinking, so she called her mother (who was still alive) and asked her why she cut off the end of the roast before cooking it. Her mother replied, "Because it wouldn't fit in the pan."

** giggling madly **

How many things do we do because it has "always been done that way" and we have never even thought to ask why or question the reasoning behind it?

Great story. Guess we're all a bunch of lemmings headed for the cliff.

I hope it's a small cliff at least!

It depends if you are a leader or a follower.

Carol

Very true, Carol. I'm guessing the young daughter who asked why the end of the roast needed to be cut off and removed will not continue the tradition. If I knew that was the only reason for removing the end piece, I'd simply buy a bigger roasting pan or buy a smaller roast!

I don't think daughters asked those questions in the olden days.

Not in my family anyway. We had lots of stuff we didn't talk about.

Carol

That reminded me of a similar story in my family.

My maternal grandmother was known for her big ol' cathead biscuits. My
mother, then later my sister used the same recipe and preparation
method which involved rolling and folding the dough with a light
sprinkle of flour between each fold. Then the biscuits were "pincked"
off and hand-shaped before going into the oven.

After my grandmother died, my sister was devastated. "I never did learn
how she made her biscuits come out square. I've got the rest of it down
pat!"

My mom laughed and said, "I had the same problem, so I asked her how she did it."

My sis got a pen and paper, ready to write. "Okay, I'm ready. How?

"She put them in the pan touching each other. When they rise, they make themselves square!"

All this talk of roast beef, has me almost tasting that end piece! And then bring on the biscuits (although I don't know what "cathead" biscuits are, they must be good!).

Brew, I thought you were going to say she placed them in square muffin tins. I was watching one of the home shopping networks over the weekend and saw square cupcake/muffin tins being sold. Now I want to make square things.

Helen, cathead biscuits are so named `cause they are the size of a cat's head.

The folding and flouring makes them come apart in layers - makes butterin' them easier!

I'm so relieved!

"And they is fit to eat!" Or so said Jerry Clower.

Why am I reading this thread? I don't care too much for beef and hate biscuits. Jackie punished me for being bad the other day by serving that Hoosier favorite, biscuits and gravy.

Hoosiers know nothing about eating. Ham and beans is a watery concoction. Sugar cream pie should be outlawed. Have you ever tried to order city chicken, sauerkraut balls or Gnocchi in Indiana? Forget it.

The first time I heard Merri's story, it involved a ham, rather than a roast. I remember one day, when my grandmother had been moved from her apartment to an assisted living facility, and Mom and I were clearing out the apartment, running across a little box of recipes, written in my great-grandmother's handwriting. None of them were titled, but my mother was able to tell what each was by the ingredients. I was a bit surprised to find that they had been written down anywhere. Nobody ever had a recipe sitting out, for anything, in those old family kitchens that I remember. There were a couple of these, though, that had Mother confused, including one that she was sure was the recipe for her grandmother's "teacakes," which, Mom explained, were large, moist cookies. The other seemed to be a recipe for muffins or a quick bread, but there was a problem. Neither recipe called for flour. Why, Mom wondered, would she leave that major ingredient out? That evening, at home, it came to her, and she excitedly went to a cabinet in her kitchen that held stuff she rarely used, but couldn't let go of, and pulled out a very large, somewhat shallow, thick wooden bowl. "Of course there was no flour in the recipe," Mom said with some excitement, "because it was never measured." She would sift a large amount of flour into that bowl, make a well in the middle, and add the rest of the ingredients into that well, then, with her fingers, work the dough until it reached the proper consistency. Mother went to the pantry, and that minute, started putting the ingredients into that bowl, formed a cookie-like dough, and baked them. Dad and I thought they were delicious. Mom was disappointed, though, saying they weren't as good as her grandmother's teacakes had been. There was usually no need for a written recipe, since mothers and daughters learned the way to make such things by watching their mothers,and practicing, under supervision until they got it right. Biscuits, cornbread, turkey stuffing, they all learned that way and handed down. Nobody thought to ask why, it was just the way you did it. I learned more about cooking from my grandmother than my mother. I wasn't allowed in Mom's kitchen while there was cooking going on. Nobody was. If I had been there, knowing me, I probably would have been asking "why," about everything.

Ann

"Have you ever tried to order city chicken, sourkraut balls or Gnocchi in Indiana?"

Dick, I can honestly say I've never ordered any of that stuff, anywhere, and don't reckon as how I ever will.

Marie,
I was wondering that myself. Perhaps a city chic doesn't wear a bra.

One half of my childhood family was very formal and would use the best china, wine goblets, linen tablecloths, etc. at family gatherings, and the other half was far more casual. I usually model after the casual side. However, as the main female descendant I inherited my grandmother's "fancy" things. Sometimes we use them just for fun.

But at Thanksgiving I usually get out all the fancy serving pieces. Last Thanksgiving I wasn't allowed in the kitchen as family took over, but when someone put the ice cream scoop in the sweet potatoes, I couldn't stand it and had to go dig out the fancy serving pieces. Some things just get embedded in our souls.

Carol

I'm shocked! None of you have had city chicken . . . unbelievable.
City chicken is cubes of pork on a stick. It is served over noodles with lots of gravy and usually with mashed potatoes at the end of the plate and smothered in the same gravy. The pork is so tender it literally melts in your mouth. For the finest city chicken in the world, come to Akron and on Thursday visit the New Era bar & restaurant on East Market Street at Massillon Road. To start with, have an order of sauerkraut balls as an appetizer. It will be the best meal you've ever eaten. Other places serve it, of course, or you can buy it ready to cook at any grocery store.

My grandmother was similar -- never cooked with a recipe or measured anything. I've been watching a lot of cooking shows and doing a lot of experimenting and I feel so much more confident in the kitchen now. I still use recipes but I can make several things with no recipe in sight and they are more than edible -- they're even tasty!

** checking my calendar ** I can meet ya'll in Akron on June 22nd.

In Akron no one has even seen the kind of chickens they have in Iowa, or wants to. Hence the name, city chicken. As for a lady's bra, most of the city chick's I have known seldom bothered with one.

Good for them. I hates them things. Evil!!

I never use a recipe, except as a general guideline. I use an outline when writing the same way, as a loose guideline. Never thought of that before.

Dick Stodghill wrote:

I'm shocked! None of you have had city chicken . . . unbelievable.
City chicken is cubes of pork on a stick. It is served over noodles with lots of gravy and usually with mashed potatoes at the end of the plate and smothered in the same gravy. The pork is so tender it literally melts in your mouth. For the finest city chicken in the world, come to Akron and on Thursday visit the New Era bar & restaurant on East Market Street at Massillon Road. To start with, have an order of sauerkraut balls as an appetizer. It will be the best meal you've ever eaten. Other places serve it, of course, or you can buy it ready to cook at any grocery store.

Dick I love you to bits, but that sounds just bloody awful. Potatoes and noodles? I like that around here we call pork pork, and chicken is chicken. Come to think of it, I am surprised that it isn't served with broccoli...

It is but Dick feeds it to Sophie.