Lalo Comes To Visit

>> Wednesday, August 19

My mom retired after nearly 20 years of working for the state of California as a dietician. Her first stint was in Porterville, a small, sleepy town south of Fresno in the Central Valley. That is how I came to live in CA. She moved to CA for that job from Reno and I moved in with her soon after. A divorce and bad memories made me want to start a fresh new life in the Central Valley. After Porterville, she worked in Sonoma then Coalinga. State hospitals were always in need of dieticians who were willing to live in small remote towns.
Last year, she retired and moved back to Reno with my brother. No amount of convincing would make her move in with me here in hot, humid, sticky Florida with all our nice beaches and multiple flea markets. My mom and I share the love for antiques and had the time of our lives poking around at yard sales and flea markets in CA. Most of the bowls, quilts, ironstone, plates, etc. that I own today were purchased in CA. (My poor husband had to drive the biggest U-haul they had across country towing his Explorer from CA to FL when we moved.)
My mom and I also shared the love of cooking and baking. Mine mysteriously blossomed when I had kids. I had to cook and bake for a family of four. Yet I love baking and cooking for my family, I like the way their eyes light up with simple dishes and brownies from the box.
When my mom comes to visit, it usually isn't to relax (well, that's secondary). It is mainly to cook for me. A week before she arrived, I went to the commissary with my father-in-law to stock up on meats and supplies.
This time, not only did she cook about 16 dishes for me which I promptly labeled and stored in my extra freezer, she also came to "teach" me how to bake. Well, I had been baking for many many years. When I was growing up, I helped my parents with their catering business. Christmas vacation meant baking, packaging, delivery fruit cakes, pies, specialty dishes.
Not having baked from scratch for years, my mom came to give me a refresher course.
She asked me if I had a mixer. I showed her my little hand held Betty Crocker (my husband's really from his bachelor days) and we shook our heads. No, that wouldn't do.
So for my birthday and Christmas, my mom splurged and bought me a 6 quart KitchenAide mixer in groovy vintage style pale pistachio!
It's quite ironic because I had bought her a KitchenAide mixer a long time ago for her birthday. And she still uses it today.
We went to the outlets in St. Augustine and in the kitchen store, we found refurbished mixers for about 1/2 the price of a brand new one.
So now, I am a proud owner of a new pastel colored professional quality mixer! Whoopee!



The origin of "Lalo."
Grandmother in Tagalog is "Lola." When my older son tried to pronounce that word, he couldn't quite wrap his baby brain around it and it came out "Lalo." This, for the woman who gave hin his first bath, who hand fed him peeled sliced grapes and changed countless diapers.
His cousins still don't understand why my mom is "Lalo."


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