Every time I mention the name "Slumgulean," people give me that puzzled look wondering what in the world I am talking about, and there is a story behind it and how it has been a part of my family for a long time. The answer to the question is that Slumgulean is a struggle meal; a poor man's breakfast/dinner that my grandma used to throw together in order to feed four boys and use up some ingredients that she had readily available.
Back in the day, my grandfather worked for Ekrich, delivering their product as a truck driver, and my grandparents would end up with a butt ton of sausage and balogna to eat throughout those years. One of the ways my grandma would fix smoked sausage would be to throw it into her Slumgulean and it would be stretched out with other ingredients that were inexpensive but nice and filling.
She would slice the sausage up and fry it along with the taters, add some other ingredients and round it off with some eggs, and boom! My father always spoke fondly of it and how he could never quite get it to taste just like hers... Hell, I can't ever get anything to taste just like my mom's, but that is because it differs from individual to individual, even if you think you added the exact measurement of each ingredient within the recipe.
I have had so many variations of this dish and have two or three favorite combinations of what is essentially a "garbage hash." It is not as unique as some might think, really, but it is special enough to me that I decided to write this blog post to honor my dad's original post on the old site, and to honor my grandma because she cooked with love. In fact, my dad had written his blog post right before the final crash of Foodie-zoo, and it would not sit well with me if I didn't say something about it.
It is true that my dad had a limited bank of recipes that he cooked and tasted awesome... He made the BEST home made bread, his biscuits were like fluffy little clouds, his beef stew and his chili were to die for, and his breakfasts were awesome. It was one way that him and I bonded, as I had bonded with mom over the stove too. When it came to the hash, he always brought grandma up and how hers was the best.
I don't remember the first time that he made it for me... I had always assumed he put his nasty, canned corned beef hash into it... You know, the stuff that looks like canned dog food and smells like it too? Yeah, so you can probably imagine that I wasn't even interested in trying it for the longest time. In fact, I refused to even look at it when I was a kid because of how my mind associated it with the stuff in the can.
I believe I was a teenager when I actually began to pay attention to some of the things that he cooked. The first things were his breakfasts, of course, and how he taught me that you do not need milk to make the perfect, soft scrambled egg that was still fluffy and tasty. I watched him throw various things into a pan, and I actually gave myself a chance to smell it and enjoy the aroma. When I tried it, I was in for a pleasant surprise... It was good... I mean, REALLY good.
Him and I would talk from over the counter since the kitchen at my mom's house is not that big, and he would tell me stories about grandma or grandpa, adventures in truck driving and such. There was a hilarious story about how grandpa would truck drive and smoke in his sleep, shifting gears with one hand and puffing on an invisible cigarette with the other. My dad would take a clothes pin and stick it between the forefinger and middle finger, and sure enough, Grandpa would "puff" on the clothes pin... We're talking about the round ones, not the ones with springs. I am sure if dad had done that one, there would have been hell to pay.
As it was, my grandpa would wake up with the clothes pin between his fingers and he would get mad and cuss.
My dad also told stories about my grandma and how she would knock people upside the head with a fireplace poker for cussing in her house. I guess that she was a spitfire while she was alive and she had all the respect in the world for it and for the fact that she was also the sweetest person alive when she wasn't provoked into being irate. I don't remember anything about her, I don't remember ever seeing her or cuddling her, but my dad explained to me that she loved my older sister and me to the moon and back, we were the apples of her eye because she had wanted granddaughters so badly after raising four boys. I wish I had gotten to be around her longer than three years because she had a wealth of things I could have learned from her, like quilting and knitting. I am happy to say that I at least have the legacy of her hash browns, even as insignificant as it may seem to others. It means the world to me to be able to connect with my grandma.
So if you are up in heaven listening to my thoughts as I type this blog post out, grandma, know that I am so glad to have a recipe to share with the world because you made one up.
Ingredients per two people:
2 TBSP Canola or Vegetable oil
1 TBSP Butter
6 oz of whatever meat you want (optional, I usually choose bacon if I have it, or breakfast sausage. I have seen dad use ham and smoked sausage before.)
1 potato of any size, shredded, sliced, or diced
1/8 cup of sliced or diced onion
1/8 cup bell pepper (Optional)
1 slice of whole wheat or white bread, torn into small pieces
Salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, garlic, rosemary, and paprika all to taste
1 egg. beaten
1 handful (About 1/2 cup) of cheese of choice (Optional)
I hope that this recipe makes you as happy as it has for three generations of my family. Maybe you will find yourself telling stories while cooking it in the future. It is a small bit of comfort in these days where we are uncertain as to whether we can safely feed our families and be able to put some nutrition in, even if it isn't what a fitness guru would call "healthy eats." The point is to line your belly when you are hungry, and this stuff is super filling and very delicious.
Have a good day, my friends and...
I need to be candid...
Life has really been interesting as of late, and sometimes you have to stop and take a minute to let yourself smell the roses.
With the death of dad, I found myself pretty overwhelmed and unable to wrap my mind around a lot of things. It's been five months now, and it still really hurts, but my dad would not want me to walk away from something I worked so hard to create. He invested his heart and soul into my blogging and creativity, and I got to the point where looking at this blog had been gnawing at me in the wrong way. I don't want to give this up; I just need to get my heart back into the story, you know?
I have been trying, therefor, to spend time outside of trying to be a great cook. I needed to be around my mom and sisters more, to get closer to them than I have ever felt. I needed to see my growing nieces and nephews and feel the joy in how much they are like me even though I didn't birth them. My sweet little baby niece, Avalee, just turned a year old this month, and she melts my heart. The way she dug into her smash cake just gave me so much to smile about.
She really gives me so many reasons to laugh, and it's been so wonderful to watch her grow. I would have never gotten to see her this much if my dad hadn't passed away; my sister and her husband wouldn't be living with my mom and helping her with things that needed to be fixed around the house but got put aside due to dad being so sick all the time. I would have missed out, and that would have just made things feel more empty.
My husband and I just celebrated our second year together, and we did something really wonderful together. We went to the Kellogg Bird Sanctuary that day, and the miniatures museum that was near there. I'd never seen so many Trumpeter Swans in one place before, nor an owl, nor a bald eagle. It's stuff like this that I really needed to experience to help me heal... I am so very glad that I took the opportunity to step back and observe the things that I would have never noticed, and that would have truly been worse than feeling the grief I feel. My dad would have wanted me to do all of these things because, in the end, he was a man who saw beauty in so many things he never used to before he was ill. I guess somewhere along the line, we all tend to forget that life isn't just about our work, and I think that is what happened to me in the last several months.
Some pictures from my adventures...
I do have some things that I am finding excitement in. I have already written the blog post for the Monkey Bread recipe I think I talked about in my previous post (don't quote me on that.) All I need to do is get it made and take lots of pictures so I can share it with you all, as well as the story behind why it is a special thing to me.
I have made a few friends along the way, one of them being a really cool guy named Captain Kenny, who specializes in fresh seafood, not only in cooking it but in the catch. I really enjoy his YouTube videos and recommend you check them out. I will not only provide a link to his blog, but his YouTube channel.
Please do show some love to Captain Kenny's Fresh, subscribe to his YouTube and click on the bell icon to get notifications of his new releases! Like and share, too!
I do want to thank everyone who has given their love and support to me over the last several months when everything was rough. There are too many people to name at this point, but they know who they are. Thank you to everyone who has been encouraging me to get back into writing, your efforts are not in vain! I might be slow to start and I know most will understand, but there will be more blog posts to come.
With that all being said...
The Eccentric Foodie
Deviled Eggs are just deconstructed egg salad. ;)
These are various recipes that either I created, or I found and adjusted to what I thought would be awesome or even healthier.