"DAMN GOOD" MINCEMEAT

In my memories I recall the kitchen in our old farm house a flutter with activity, happy and productive. I close my eyes and conjure forth a combination of savory smells cooking on the stove; meat, fruit, cider, apples. Lorraine, short, wide, chopped brown hair, thongs, mumu, simply beautiful with her wide smile, eyes alive with life and tinkling laughter, traipses back and forth from the sink dropping ground apples into the huge black speckled pot. Mom, tall, glamorous, long-legged, slacks, tennis shoes, flowered blouse, curly red hair, smiles but concentrates with intensity on her job of stirring the contents of the pot; the ingredients prone to burning easily if allowed. With a silent communication that only two close friends can share, the women look at each other, smiles turning to giggles, as each rush to gather their private caches of liquid in bottles, large and small. Lorraine pours the liquid, as Mom stirs; both leaning close to smell the effects of each addition. One hour passes; the stirring continues into the second hour. As the seconds tick by, each woman with spoon in hand, test the thickening concoction. The decision, “It’s good.” Stir the mixture, test, giggle, stir, stir, test, giggle, test, test, test, tear-rolling, pant-peeing, flat-out laughter. Finally cooked down to perfection, the stove turned off, the pot removed from the burner, laughter reduced to sporadic fits of giggles, I hear “That’s the best damn batch we’ve ever made!”

I wish I could say I, like my Mom and Lorraine, make mincemeat every year, but I let years slip away without making the effort. When I do gather my ingredients and begin the process of cooking up “a batch,” my thoughts always gravitate to my memories of these two women. A fact, that doesn’t easily escape my mind, is that I have no friends willing or family close enough to share this experience with. It’s unfortunate because I’ve found it isn’t just the making of the mincemeat, but an attempt to make my own kitchen alive with happiness and memories. Still, I smile as I stir, stir, stir, taste, stir, taste, taste, taste and eventually my giggles turn into flat-out, pants-peeing laughter. My heart is joyous, my head a bit “tipsy and giddy” from all the tasting, but as I fill my containers with the finished product, I think of how my parents, siblings and neighbors might have memories of that “best damn” homemade mincemeat I’ve given them – straight from my kitchen filled with my own unique form of happiness and love.

DAMN GOOD MINCEMENT

2 lbs. lean beef
½ lb suet
2 lbs apples (a juicy kind)
2 lb raisons
1 lb currants
3 cups sugar
3 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoon cloves
3 teaspoon nutmeg
½ cup lemon juice

Add apple cider, meat broth and any kind of liquor you can find in your cupboards. Cook 1 to 2 hours until liquid is reduced down. Stir frequently because it likes to stick to the bottom of the pot and burn. I spray the pan with Pam the night before and then again before adding ingredients.

**I generally multiply this recipe by 10 or 12. I use a gallon of wine, a fifth of whiskey and a gallon of brandy for the liquor – as it’s the liquor that gives it the wonderful flavor that it has. Just beware that you might get a little “tipsy” as you test it throughout the two hours of cooking!!