End of an Era

This is a Sunday Story – no politics here.  Just a story of Mom and growing up half-English.

War Bride

My mother was born on June 25th, 1918 in London, England.  Today would be her 105th birthday, and while she passed away in 2011 at ninety-three years, little things still remind me of her all the time.

Mom came to the United States after World War II.  She and Dad got married in England in the middle of the war, both serving their nations (Dad in the US Army, Mom in the British Special Operations Executive).  They were lucky.  They survived to celebrate victory, and faced a whole new future in Dad’s hometown; Cincinnati, Ohio.

Mom was a “war bride”. She even made the local newspaper (probably helped that my Grandfather was the Sports Editor).  There was a picture of her eating ice cream, something still unavailable in war-rationed England. But, Mom wasn’t the “typical” English bride.  She really didn’t know much about cooking, or setting up a home (but she could deliver secret messages, and probably kill someone in multiple silent ways).  She learned though.  People expected that Mom would make “English” dishes, so she got the recipes and taught herself how to do them, here in the US, in Cincinnati.  Her cooking “Bible” was the Settlement Cookbook (first published in 1905, my edition is 1976). It had the basics on cooking everything from soup to nuts.

Growing Up English

So my sisters and I grew up in Cincinnati, but we grew up in a kind-of English home.  We all failed spelling tests, over and over again.  Theater wasn’t theatre, color wasn’t colour, airplane wasn’t aeroplane, and I can’t even remember what aluminum foil was (I looked – aluminium, ‘Al-You-Min-E-um’  – foil).  

And we had certain English traditions.  While other kids came home to afternoon snacks of milk and cookies, we absolutely had “tea and biscuits”.  Our tea was tea, milk, and sugar (lots of sugar for me) and our “biscuits” were cookies. The tea was in a pot (no bags in a cup), and while Mom eventually used tea bags, they were always (always) Lipton’s Tea.   And on Sunday, our big meal was a brunch, breakfast at lunchtime really; with eggs and bacon and sausage and toast and coffee cakes; and well, you get the idea. 

Mom learned how to make traditional British dishes.  Roast beef was big in our house, as was lamb.  We had lamb chops and lamb shoulders and lamb roasts.  And lamb was served with mint sauce (not mint jelly).  In fact, it wasn’t just Mint Sauce, it was Crosse and Blackwell’s Egyptian Mint Sauce, a vinegary mix of mint leaves and “sauce”.  It was a “thing”, like strawberry preserves rather than jelly, or Shepard’s Pie (more lamb).

The Queen

Mom lived in the United States from 1945 until her death in 2011.  That’s sixty-six years.  But she never lost her English accent.  I always thought that was one of the reasons Mom went “home” every few years was to “renew the lease” on her distinctive speech.  Mom’s accent was, well, like the Queen’s.  I suspect that was developed in the private boarding schools she went to as a child.  I didn’t know my Mom’s parents much, but looking back, I know they weren’t wealthy.  They must have sacrificed a lot to put Mom and her brothers and sisters (two of each) into private schooling.  But in the early 20th Century, that was the path to success in England, and Mom was in boarding schools from a relatively young age.  

So especially when we were young, we had a slight English accent as well.  And we all were expert mimics of Mom’s accent (at the risk of a bop on the head).  And when my nephew spent a lot time in his first few years with us in Cincinnati, he got the accent too.  I remember well two year-old Chris whining, “I don’t want to take a ‘ba-aa-th’!” in perfect British diction.

The End

I’ve been “bach-ing” it this week, as Jenn and our son head to California. It’s just me and the dogs.  And while Jenn’s away, I decided to have lamb for dinner (not her “cup of tea’).  While lamb chops are crazy expensive these days, lamb shoulder is still relatively cheap. Our local Kroger’s carries small amounts of lamb, even when it’s not Easter. 

So I dropped by to pick up lamb for dinner.  And while I could find the lamb, I couldn’t find Crosse and Blackwell’s Egyptian Mint Sauce.  I couldn’t even find a “fall back” mint jelly.  In fact, I searched the local Kroger’s for half an hour, and there was nothing that I could even consider serving lamb with.  And then, wonder of modern technology, I pulled up a recipe for mint sauce on my phone.  I bought mint leaves, finely diced them, boiled water, added sugar, vinegar, salt and pepper.  I grilled the lamb, boiled red potatoes and opened a can of peas.  

It was a typical English dinner.  My concoction was “good enough” to get my through, though not anywhere near as good as Crosse and Blackwell’s. I woke up early this morning, and searched the internet.  My thought was to lay in a supply for the next time.  And then I discovered:  Crosse and Blackwell’s stopped making Egyptian Mint Sauce.

It’s probably been more than a century since they started making “my” sauce.  I’m sure tastes have changed, both here and in the United Kingdom.  But my taste hasn’t changed; and Mom would be dismayed.  I ordered a substitute (from Amazon), another “English Mint Sauce”, but I’m not getting my hopes up.  If it’s not good enough, I’ll go back to my recipe and try to tweak it to my memories. 

Happy Birthday Mom.  You’re never far away. 

The Sunday Story Series

Author: Marty Dahlman

I'm Marty Dahlman. After forty years of teaching and coaching track and cross country, I've finally retired!!! I've also spent a lot of time in politics, working campaigns from local school elections to Presidential campaigns.