Nostalgia in a Tub

My lunch box today held a pleasant surprise - pimento cheese on whole wheat. This may sound a little dull, but I assure you, pimento cheese is one of my favorite sandwich fillings, yet I rarely have it. A couple of months ago I was craving the stuff, but couldn't find any at the store. After walking through three different groceries I came upon an extremely small carton for nearly $5. Too rich for my blood, I just kept on walking and considered making my own. A trip to Allrecipes.com yielded more pimento cheese recipes than I could read in a sitting, and before I could choose one to try the hunger passed. Funny how that works. When I am starving for something either the urge is sooo overwhelming it MUST be fulfilled (as mentioned in the CNN article about fatty foods being addicting), or it just goes away. This one did the latter, until a couple of days ago when I zipped through Walmart's grocery section to pick up some soda. Walking past the cheese cooler, my eye spotted a carton of the pimento spread for only $2.50. Naturally, I had to have it, and today my craving was finally appeased.

Pimento cheese, like many foods, has nostalgic overtones. My mom has described her mother making it at home when she and my aunt were young. I don't remember growing up eating this spread, but it does seem to be an old-fashioned type of food, or perhaps it just lacks the cosmopolitan flare we have come to expect from all of our eats thanks to Food Network's brigade of chefs. While I am happy to indulge in "fancy" food, as my son calls it, I am usually more satisfied with something that has a "down home" feel. I'm talking about dishes like fried okra, corn on the cob, cole slaw with pulled pork, fried chicken with potato salad, fresh green beans, and pretty much anything with cornbread. These foods seem to nourish the soul because they connect us to other times and places where family was the center of the home and home was the center of the world.

I remember fondly pulling carrots from Mom's garden, rinsing them with the hose and eating them on the spot. The same fate awaited the sunny yellow pear tomatoes we plucked from the plant and popped in our mouths, their midday warmth sweeter than candy. English peas, went this way as well. Looking back, I'm surprised my brother and I left enough to be picked and shared, but there always seemed to be plenty. These foods, fresh from the garden, were the heart of summer dinners at our house and still hold strong associations for me with every bite. These associations are not just for garden fare, but for food that comes from a simpler time when kids peddaled their bikes swiftly to be home for lunch, and moms yelled "Wipe your feet and wash your hands," when the door slammed without even checking to see who came in before setting a soft-bread sandwich filled with peanut butter and jelly, juicy tomatoes with salt and mayonnaise, or even pimento cheese on the table next to a glass of ice cold milk, which created a satisfying lunch meant to fuel the hours of running, skating, dreaming, and playing left before dinner.