The Company Is Gourmet

It is always amazing how the right company can make even the most mundane meal gourmet. That company to me is my family, and the food at hand is far from mundane. However, when you think of gourmet food you typically envision eating escargot in Paris or savoring fettuccini while watching gondolas in Venice. I would imagine slippery ham pot-pie does not even make the list. If it is even a meal you have heard of. You see, slippery ham pot-pie is a staple Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine. While the Pennsylvania Dutch are a hardworking and resourceful people, their food is typically quite utilitarian. If food were cars Pennsylvania Dutch food would be a Chevy pickup-truck. It may not have the flash or flare of a Ferrari, but it will always get the job done, and it has a beauty to it’s simplicity.

Slippery ham pot-pie is a combination of ham, potatoes, and egg noodles all cooked in a bullion broth in a large pot. It is the kind of meal you can imagine a farmer’s wife cooking up for her husband and children after a long day out in the fields, the kind of meal that may not look like much, but will always leave with that well-fed warmth in your stomach.

In my family my father is the cook. He is the child of a farmer and his wife, as well as one of nine children that was fed this meal many times after working hard in fields.

“Dinner’s ready. Bring your plates over.” My father says, and the line forms of myself, my wife, and my mother who is carrying a plate for grandmother. My ten month old son will be skipping the pot-pie in favor of some delicious pureed sweet potatoes.

“Smells good John.” My mother says.

We all nod in agreement.

After we all fill our plates we sit down to eat. There are topics that are typically considered a faux pas to talk about during dinner. They are religion and politics. This is not a rule my family, more specifically my father and I, adhere to. Since the election is near politics seem appropriate, and soon the conversation moves to a favorite subject of contention between the two of us, illegal immigration.

“What I can’t stand is these people coming here and making no effort to become part of our culture.” My father says.

Neither my father or I support illegal immigration, but we both see a different way of dealing with it.

“You should deport them all.” He gruffly barks.

My father is a bit of a “hard liner” on the subject, whereas I consider myself a bit more of a realist.

“But you can’t remove six million people from the economy and not expect it to have a major effect.” I retort. “There has to be some comprehensive reform that seals the borders, brings as many into the legal fold, and deports those that don’t want to comply.”

“I read an article recently that said in the next two decades whites will no longer be the majority, and Latinos are the fastest growing demographic.” My father states.

“Well then I guess it is a good thing that we are protecting minority rights now isn’t it.” I jibe.

Sensing that there needs to be a change in the conversation my mother asks my wife, “How was work today, Liz?”

“Good, a little busy.” My wife says. “but at least I didn’t break my nose again.” Refering to a recent run in that involved a Rottweiler and my wife’s face. The bruises around both eyes and an agonizing pain when she sneezes leads me to believe the dog won. She would beg to differ.

“This is really good honey.” My mother tells my father as well all nod in agreement again.

“Bababababa. Mamamama.” My son chimes in.

“Really Liam? That is very interesting. I had never thought of it that way.” I playfully say to the sweet potato covered ten month old.

He smacks his tray and smiles approvingly.

“Really Dad this is very good.” I say.

“Thanks, I added an extra bullion cube to the broth this time. There is plenty for seconds.” My father offers.

The offer of a second round is something I never pass up. So, I stand up, offer to refill others plates, and begin spooning out another helping of noodles, ham, and potatoes.

It is amazing how simple the meal sounds. It really is just ham, egg noodles, and potatoes all cooked together, but there is something magical that happens when that meal is shared with the right company. When a good meal is shared with people you love and care about it takes on a whole new life. While the food may not be considered gourmet, the company most certainly is.