Viking Sandwiches
by Ray Shay
5.6.14
She would swing the large knife down on the soft yellow block and what would result is not slices but a series of "V" shaped pieces of cheese. My mom never stopped talking as she asked about us our day, our sports, our lives, or telling us how much she loved being a mom. She then buttered the bread, tossed the cheese on them and grilled them up.
Oh boy, it was an adventure to eat them. Some brown and some slightly burnt. It would drive any Qualcomm engineer absolutely crazy as the tip of the V was like hot lava while the other end was still ice cold. You had to be careful because the cold part of the cheese may stick to your teeth while the narrow part seared the roof of your mouth or your lips as you suppressed a, "$%&^ that's hot!"
With my mouth half full of cheese and the toasted buttery bread, I would often tell my mom she was like a Viking. Of course she would laugh and then be off doing a variety of chores because there was certainly no housekeeper or helper in our home.
When I was a bachelor living in San Diego my dad sent me a Joy of Cooking cook book and wrote me a little note. You can see what he wrote above.
With both my parents passing within a few months of each other, I feel so fortunate to have these memories. It reminds me to continue building great memories with our children. As I continued my swim and saw the yellow sun beginning to peak over the eastern mountains, I felt a sense of good fortune.
We were lucky to have such amazing parents and that they had such a "Live On" attitude. They would not want any of us to mourn for them.
As I hurried to finish my workout, I could only think about Judy's delicious spaghetti. I hope she reads this story one day and brings me a plate. I bet her daughter is right. There is only one spaghetti like Judy's and I suspect her smile and laugh are a few of the essential elements that make it so amazing.
Happy Mother's Day Mom, ,
Ray
Copyright Shay Realtors 2014 All Rights Reserved.
As I swam lap after lap in the pre-sunrise darkness at Del Norte High School's amazing swimming pool, my mind drifted to memories of my mom. I don't recall if it was the upcoming Mother's Day this Sunday that triggered thoughts of her, or my private agreement with myself that whenever I swim in the ocean or enter a large body of water, I always think of her.
I usually make a point of saying, "hello." The type of hello that is off the cuff, almost as if I just walked into her busy kitchen, so many years ago. Sometimes I can even hear the sounds of my "hey mom" leaving my lips, while usually it's only a slight whisper in the deep recesses of my constantly busy brain.
The ocean connection with my mom comes from the lyrics one of my favorite Jimmy Buffet songs, A Pirate Looks at Forty...
Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call,
Wanted to sail upon your waters
since I was three feet tall.
You've seen it all, you've seen it all.
My mom certainly did see it all. As for my dad, the same thing occurs when I see stars in the night sky or a Navy fighter jet fly by.
He was a Naval Aviator and for some reason he was also infatuated with Stephen Hawkins and his study of black holes in deep outer space. Kind of funny the things you remember about your parents. Both flying and the outer reaches of the galaxy are way above my pay grade.
As I swam, I thought of my mom and of course her, "Viking Sandwiches." The swimmer in the adjoining lane is a long time family friend named "Judy" who has amazingly beautiful dark brown almond shape eyes and a smile and laugh that always puts people immediately at ease. Since Judy had the swimming cap on her head her eyes were like black diamonds sparkling away, as they reflected off the immense surface of water.
I asked Judy about her daughter who is about to graduate from DNHS. Judy said her daughter had recently told her how much she was going to miss her mom's spaghetti. Judy laughed as she explained her daughter had exclaimed, "no one makes spaghetti like you mom." Then came the smile and that amazing laugh again. I love Judy.
I thought how freaky it was that somehow in that vast pool of chlorinated water, both Judy and I were thinking about cooking and how food makes an indelible connection between parents and their children.
As I began swimming the remainder of my workout, I thought of my mom's own laugh and her darn "Viking" cheese sandwiches. They were legendary and not because they were perfect sandwiches, but rather because they were perfectly, imperfect.
There really was nothing quite like em. First you have to understand with seven kids to feed our mom did everything fast, so h
er margin of error was pretty wide. I can still see her breaking out the whole square slab of American cheese and a loaf of white bread. As she talked away she would start slicing the cheese, but it was not like a normal person. She chopped it up like a Viking Sushi Chef on crack cocaine.
As I began swimming the remainder of my workout, I thought of my mom's own laugh and her darn "Viking" cheese sandwiches. They were legendary and not because they were perfect sandwiches, but rather because they were perfectly, imperfect.
There really was nothing quite like em. First you have to understand with seven kids to feed our mom did everything fast, so h
er margin of error was pretty wide. I can still see her breaking out the whole square slab of American cheese and a loaf of white bread. As she talked away she would start slicing the cheese, but it was not like a normal person. She chopped it up like a Viking Sushi Chef on crack cocaine.She would swing the large knife down on the soft yellow block and what would result is not slices but a series of "V" shaped pieces of cheese. My mom never stopped talking as she asked about us our day, our sports, our lives, or telling us how much she loved being a mom. She then buttered the bread, tossed the cheese on them and grilled them up.
Oh boy, it was an adventure to eat them. Some brown and some slightly burnt. It would drive any Qualcomm engineer absolutely crazy as the tip of the V was like hot lava while the other end was still ice cold. You had to be careful because the cold part of the cheese may stick to your teeth while the narrow part seared the roof of your mouth or your lips as you suppressed a, "$%&^ that's hot!"
With my mouth half full of cheese and the toasted buttery bread, I would often tell my mom she was like a Viking. Of course she would laugh and then be off doing a variety of chores because there was certainly no housekeeper or helper in our home.
When I was a bachelor living in San Diego my dad sent me a Joy of Cooking cook book and wrote me a little note. You can see what he wrote above.
 |
| Mom and Dad |
With both my parents passing within a few months of each other, I feel so fortunate to have these memories. It reminds me to continue building great memories with our children. As I continued my swim and saw the yellow sun beginning to peak over the eastern mountains, I felt a sense of good fortune.
We were lucky to have such amazing parents and that they had such a "Live On" attitude. They would not want any of us to mourn for them.
As I hurried to finish my workout, I could only think about Judy's delicious spaghetti. I hope she reads this story one day and brings me a plate. I bet her daughter is right. There is only one spaghetti like Judy's and I suspect her smile and laugh are a few of the essential elements that make it so amazing.
Happy Mother's Day Mom, ,
Ray
Copyright Shay Realtors 2014 All Rights Reserved.
