Al Fresco Is Not an Opera Singer

The Old Man isn't much on eating outdoors. My parents, on the other hand, loved it. They would look for any excuse to eat "out in the yard". I think that if we had had to migrate like those Dust Bowl families you see on National Geographic, we'd have an old pick-up, and tied to it would be the picnic table and grill before the household furniture even stood a chance.

Mention "cooking out" and Dad would become as energized as if 110 volts had been selectively applied to his body. He'd have the grill fired up almost before Mom could make up the hamburger patties. Dad had a way with charcoal. He was a great believer in lighter fluid. I'd be riding my bike a block away late on a summer evening, and I'd see a black mushroom cloud rising from the direction of our house. Dad liked to "add" lighter fluid to already smoldering charcoal if he didn't think the coals were coming along fast enough. I couldn't help but think of those flame-throwers I would see in the news reels at the movie. "Uh-oh", I'd think....another meal being eaten with one hand while swatting flies and bees with the other". Mom would be scurrying around in the kitchen making potato salad and cutting up tomatoes and onions.


I knew without asking we were having either hot dogs or hamburgers. I don't remember steak ever being served in our house and pork chops were only fried. In retrospect, I guess I can see the attraction. With no air conditioning, summer kitchens quickly became a torture chamber, so having a little pollen breeze-driven into your food was perhaps a better option. Mom used mustard in her potato salad, so you couldn't tell anyway.

Mom had an uncanny ability to spot a fly beginning his dive toward the table. She could grab the fly swatter and send him to fly heaven without missing a bite of her burger. She'd giggle and say, "Got the little rascal".

Perhaps the zenith of their outdoor cooking career came when they bought a little deep-fat fryer. The Battalion would sometimes gather in our yard to play badminton or croquet. These games would go on all afternoon and into the twilight hours. Ever the consummate host, Dad felt he had to provide sustenance. I recall one day he and Mom rigged an extension cord out into the yard, and then peeled, cut, and fried an entire 5 lb. bag of potatoes. Badminton and french fries.....doesn't get much better than that to a 12 year old. They fried so many that I could swear the lights in town dimmed.


Miss Martha and I had lunch today at one of our favorite places. As we came out after our meal, the outdoor dining area was actually busier than the inside one. Folks were enjoying the open air and sunshine. I wanted to give them a word of warning in the event they noticed a yellow cast to their food.


There's no mustard in the potato salad.