I Am Not Freddie: Warm Memories

Sept. 27, 2014

circa 1947 Salad Master Machine

Last week, while making Danielle Walker’s Spanish Frittata with Chorizo (Against All Grain), I hauled out my mom’s Salad Master to grate the sweet potatoes. I gave away my food processor years ago and was kicking myself (now that I’m making meals from whole foods and spending an inordinate amount of time peeling, chopping, slicing and grating) until I remembered that I had the Salad Master. Here I digress, because it’s my smile for the day: setting up that rather elegantly simple device - no electricity necessary - on my own countertop brought a tidal wave of memories from my mom’s kitchen, complete with 1950s pink appliances and now-Retro pink & gray patterned Formica countertops, yes, from those wonderfully simple days before electrical appliances took over the kitchen. I remember helping Mom grate and slice, watching the colorful veggies turn from whole to shreds or slices as they tumbled into a bowl in a smooth, almost mesmerizing motion with the turning of the cylinder. And then they became zucchini bread or potato chips, or some 40 years later, the vibrant orange basis of my frittata.

And is this serendipitous, or what? Of the three Nielsen sisters, the one who lives in Texas took the Salad Master after Mom passed away, only to learn while writing this post that Salad Master was established in 1946 by Harry Lemmons, who set up operations in his home in Dallas, Texas! The company was so successful that within a year he moved into a new building in Dallas, where the company operated for the next 43 years. Today, the company is located in Arlington, Texas, halfway between Dallas and Fort Worth, and alongside a line of stainless steel cookware, the Salad Master Machine is still the flagship product of the company's business, sporting a sleek new design, but performing exactly the same uncomplicated function. Would I trade Mom's for a new one? Not a chance, but check out the new beauty here.

I am grateful for happy memories, and for my mom, who I see and feel beside me again when I use her tools or read her handwritten recipes, who made our house a home and who gave me lovely memories that make me smile today.

Here are images of the Frittata-making process, a la recipe book. The final two images are Reality, because I have no kitchen assistants measuring out the ingredients in nice, neat little bowls, nor cleaning up behind me so the counters and sinks are pristine despite all the prep work. This is why the current love affair with open-concept home design is quite
beyond me ...