Thinking about my mom on Mother’s Day brings forth so many memories. I Remember Mama, a popular “live” drama series from the early days of television about a Norwegian family living in San Francisco at the turn of the century was her favorite show. The series is long gone now, and, sadly, so is my mom, but one thing that will never be gone are her recipes, a legacy to the love and responsibility she felt for the family she so loved.
One thing our family had in common with the family from that show was the daily routine of gathering at the dinner table. The fictional Hansen family ate dinner at 5 o’clock every day, and so did we — without fail! I seem to remember a kind of cycle menu was in play at our house during my mom’s early years as a homemaker and we could always count on leftovers from our Sunday dinner on Monday. I wistfully recall her pushing chunks of leftover roast beef with onions and potatoes through a hand grinder for the roast beef hash I so detested as child but so crave now that I’m all grown up. In fact, I crave a lot of the food she used to make.
My mom’s pizza was fabulous. I’m still trying to duplicate it, with only limited success. She made it in a sheet pan; it was super thin and the crust was crisp, tender, and absolutely delicious. Her peach and plum dumplings were the talk of the neighborhood, and her kolácky were better than you could get at any bakery I’ve been to. Some of her dishes were truly unusual — especially the Hawaiian Pot Roast.
I don’t remember where she got the recipe, and try as I might I can’t find one to match. Maybe because it’s a pot roast that isn’t braised or even roasted. It’s done under the broiler or on the grill. Again, this is one dish I couldn’t stand when I was younger, but now? Here’s how she did it.