When I was a little girl, my parents would go out every Wednesday night. My grandfather, "Papa", a Greek immigrant, did everything for his grandchildren. Having owned a restaurant, food was no problem. He was a short order cook for our breakfast. Pancakes (or hot-ah-cakes), eggs, grits, or cereal could all be prepared to delight my two brothers and myself. We didn't know how lucky we were. What child doesn't love french fries? I can't think of one who doesn't like them. That is what we wanted when mom and dad went out for the evening. French fries, JUST French fries, nothing else. He would prepare them fresh, using fresh oil each time. Plates and plates of delicious fries. We ate until we could eat no more. We had some good friends that heard about this special French fry meal and wanted to join us. So, on occasion, they would join us for dinner. Mom never said anything and we thought we were really getting away with something special. Many years later, she said: "how could I not know?.... a five pound bag of potatoes were gone over night, plus the house smelled like one giant french fry"! To this day, you can ask anyone who grew up with us who made the best fries. The answer is always "Papa". So, this is how I came to call my first blog:
"French Fries On Wednesday"
I hope you enjoy some of my adventures from the past and present. So, sit down, grab something to eat and drink, and enjoy. There is always a place at my table for you! Lisa