After starting my blog, my mom decided to start one as well. She's always been an amazing cook, constantly trying new recipes. Her blog shares recipes as well as the stories behind them. Go follow her at
http://cook-my-way.blogspot.com
"Sometimes, the simplest offering can mean years of memories…in kindness, appreciation, and taste. I made a recipe the other night that came to my house the very first time as a kind gesture and dinner after I delivered my first baby 19 years ago. At the time, I was fortunate to belong to a sorority in our town and the group of women that year were many of my very good friends. One of the committees prepared meals for ‘sisters’ who needed meals for one reason or another…one person would make a side dish, another the main meal, and another the dessert. I had participated many times, but this was the first time I was a recipient and I didn’t realize how much it meant until that evening.
Often a first pregnancy, no matter how much you think you know (I’d worked for an OB-GYN doc in my earlier years for about 5 years), or how many books you read…..well, when it is YOU, you know nothing! This was obvious when, at about 6 months into my pregnancy, on January 16, 1992, I had severe pain and some contractions. My doc was in Indianapolis…about an hour from my home. I had spent all day there, hooked up to all kinds of contraptions and monitored. Finally the contractions ended with no reason to explain any of it. But I was allowed to go home. On the drive back, we stopped and ate….and by the time I got home I was feeling a little uncomfortable. I chalked this up to anything and everything associated with pregnancy.
I decided to take a bath to help ease my pain. About 10 minutes into the bath, I realized that something was really wrong. To make a long story short…I was having very close contractions and was very close to delivery. To make matters worse, there was an ice storm going on (much like a night like we are having tonight in Indiana!) and there was not even time for an ambulance. So, into my husband’s big truck I went…and off we went to the town hospital (which, by the way, was NOT my hospital or where my doctor practiced.
What happened afterwards was a series of events that could only happen on a TV sitcom. My husband pulled up to the ER and proceeded to walk me in…and of course, we told them it was an emergency situation but apparently, no one took me very serious since this was my first pregnancy (first pregnancies take longer in most situations). Questions, questions..Insurance stuff…sitting in wheel chair on my SIDE (HELLO…because I am beginning to deliver!) Meanwhile, my husband was told his truck would be towed if not moved, so off he goes while the two nurses zip me to the labor/delivery ward in the other part of the hospital. As they are rattling on about this great recipe for a meatloaf (yes, I still remember that!) I am desperately trying to tell them about the events of the day…and that I could possibly be sitting on my baby’s head! The professional response I got was, ‘Oh honey, it will all be ok…this is your first one’…and then back to the green peppers and make sure the grease is drained…!
Well, of course when they began to put me on the exam table and put a lovely unflattering (hey, a girl's got to look her best!) hospital gown on me, the ever so enlightening comment was, ‘Oh my God! You have started to deliver!’ Umm….like, really? Do ya think so?? And of course, the doctor on call (whom I cannot say too much bad about because he was my dear friend’s father) continued to eat his dinner at home..Not wanting to be disturbed because it was my FIRST delivery (which should take HOURS!)
Needless to say, I had the fastest natural delivery on earth…so fast I don’t think there was even any pain. THAT was the good thing. The bad thing was that my daughter was 3 months premature and after blowing dust off the incubator (yes, the hospital was that impressive); they decided to have her rushed to Riley Children’s hospital in Indianapolis…some 50 miles away. I had to stay and she had to go. It was a nightmare.
Now, the other things that were pretty funny (well, not then…but at least now) was that my poor husband couldn’t find me and no one knew where I was (shouldn’t they know where a pregnant woman who is delivering should go???). Honestly, it happened so fast…I’m not sure he was even there. I think I need to go ask him now... My husband’s parents were called and were on their way to provide support….only his dad was having some intestinal testing done the next day and had orders to take laxatives in preparation so, let’s just say he was stuck in a certain room of their house and not able to leave. So my Mother-in-law came and by the time she got to the hospital, they were taking baby Sophie to Riley. My husband left to go with the baby and my mom-in-law reluctantly stayed with me…let’s just say I was not her first choice. Well... it's the truth! ;-)
It took me just about 9 hours until I realized I was NOT staying any longer…it was now around 6am and I checked myself out against medical orders and my mom-in-law and I left. And by the way, I should tell you for the record that my own mother was meanwhile enjoying herself in her condo at Ft. Lauderdale, Florida…although I know for a fact she would not have attended to my needs at the hospital because she is ‘not a hospital kind of person’! I could say more here, but I am choosing not to...you just gotta know how she is. And hey, I’d choose Ft. Lauderdale over this too. Well...maybe not.
As we headed out of town towards Indianapolis, I realized I was famished…and asked to stop at the local little dive breakfast place to eat first. It was 6am and I swear that only very old people were there that morning…maybe they had a special on shredded wheat and oatmeal, I don’t know. But regardless…when the waitress asked how we were, I replied that I was sure I was the only one in the room that delivered a baby last night and that I would like the BIG MAMMA platter! She looked at me like...oh yeah, right. So I swear, that was the best meal I ever had…and ate it in about 5 minutes flat. Ok, again....in retrospect, maybe i was just hungry!
My little baby was very fortunate..She was able to go to a wonderful children’s hospital and Riley literally saved her life. Fortunately she was a whopping 3 lbs, 4 oz…which is a very good weight considering she was 3 months premature. Yes, she had breathing problems and other issues too…but three months later, she was able to come home with the help of an apnea machine, respiratory treatments, medications, and a visiting nurse. When it was all said and done and after looking at the paperwork of bills from the hospitals that we needed for our insurance company, she was indeed EASILY the million dollar baby.
I’m proud to say that she currently is in her first year at Indiana University and excelling there. The thing that is really neat is that she actually participated in a dance marathon for Riley hospital and raised $500 with the help of friends and relatives. ( As if that wasn’t enough, she interviewed recently and eaned one of the 44 positions for the planning committee of this huge event for next year (This is the second largest student-run philanthropy to raise more than $1 million for Riley in the nation) She is only one of three freshmen in the group and her determination is remarkable. I’m pretty sure on the application there was no mention of a spaghetti pie…but one of the questions asked if she had a ‘Riley Story’. How about…Riley saved my life.
Ok..So enough storytelling and back to the spaghetti pie. My point to this whole thing is the very first line of this blog. Sometimes it is the smallest gesture that can mean the most to folks. That pie was the best thing ever that evening. I remember that Sophie had just come home and I was exhausted with all the night feedings, not to mention all the treatments and medications. I was cranky and the last thing on my mind was cooking. To this day, each time I prepare it, I am amazed that it is not only a very simple dish to prepare…but also very delicious and satisfying. And I remember how much I appreciated having this meal on that evening with a salad, garlic bread, and brownie dessert…. and how very fortunate and blessed we were for having a healthy baby girl in the end. So, along with this story about Sophie, I am sharing the recipe. Share this with a friend in need, an elderly neighbor, or make it as a surprise for someone who is special to you. Leave a tasty memory for someone else….and pay the spaghetti pie forward. I hope you make it soon!"
Spaghetti Pie (my version – of course it has been ‘tweeked’ to perfection!)
Ingredients:
*9 ounces spaghetti
*4 tablespoons butter
*½ C. parmesan cheese
*3 eggs (well beaten)
*1 ½ C. cottage cheese
*1 ½ lbs. ground beef or Italian sausage, or combination of both
*¾ C. chopped onions
*½ C. green peppers or mushrooms (or both!) – optional
*1 (12 ounce) can of diced tomatoes
*1 jar (26 ounce) of really good spaghetti sauce – I like the three cheese kind
*1 tablespoon of Italian seasoning or 1 ½ tsp. of oregano
*2 cloves of garlic, chopped (please note that a clove is NOT a whole head…I have a friend that made a very potent pizza sauce when he did not understand this simple fact!)
*¾ C. mozzarella cheese, shredded.
Directions: 1- Cook spaghetti as directed, drain and set aside. (I break the spaghetti in half)
2- Mix together melted butter, parmesan cheese, and eggs….then add to cooled spaghetti and mix really well.
3- Line a greased 9x13 baking dish or a really big deep dish pie pan with the spaghetti mixture, pressing to make a crust.
4- In a separate big pan, fry hamburger or sausage with onion, garlic, green peppers until brown – drain off grease. Add mushrooms if desired and mix.
5- Add rest of ingredients and mix well…heat thoroughly.
6- Pour meat mixture on top of spaghetti mixture and spread evenly over top.
7- Bake in 350 degree oven for 30 minutes, adding cheese at last 7 minutes or until melted and bubbly.
I'm not sure who to credit for the above mentioned quote, but I do know that there aren't better words to even attempt explaining the experience called Indiana University Dance Marathon. As I have quickly learned, most students will never understand IUDM...I can't say I blame them. At the first mention of a 36 hour dance marathon, where students go without sleep, sitting, and eventually, sanity, I would doubt someone's reasoning for participating, too. It's so much more than that, though. When trying to explain it, I keep finding myself at a loss for words. It's almost painful how much you WANT to be able to share your experience.