Christmas Spaghetti
Some folks can’t cook the traditional Southern Christmas dinner. So one year, one of them tried spaghetti. Everyone loved it, including the cats.
Each year, my mother’s only sister, her husband, and their brood of five cooked up the quintessential Southern meal. Their sturdy oak table groaned under the weight of the ham, turkey, dressing, gravies, butter beans, peas, creamed corn, green salad, potatoes, turnips, corn bread, homemade yeast rolls, pies, ambrosia and sweet tea. Prior to eating, however, adults and children alike indulged in free-flowing cups of homemade eggnog heavily laced with whiskey and rum and topped with tall peaks of sweetened whipped cream. My relatives swore this was the only time of year they partook. I was skeptical. Regardless, every year the eggnog flowed, and the meal was delicious.
Unfortunately, the year arrived when my uncle was sick and Aunt Zelna didn’t think she could do the Christmas meal justice. My mother, a good cook though not necessarily the type to do a big Southern spread, volunteered to cook Christmas dinner for everyone. On Christmas Eve, she stared into the pantry.
“Oh, lord, I have to do Christmas dinner tomorrow. What are we going to have?”
Anyone who has ever cooked a turkey understands that, at this point, the big bird was no longer a viable option — nor was anything else that might come close to resembling the traditional Christmas dinner everyone expected.
Then, my mother brightened.
"I know! We’ll have spaghetti!"
Christmas morning, she made a huge industrial-size pot of bubbling marinara sauce, pasta, salad, garlic bread, and we even managed to have a pie. I think everyone was surprised, to put it mildly, but with good Southern manners, never let on. It turned out quite delicious. All the cousins departed happily full and festive, though I am sure the menu was the subject of much discussion.
Perplexed with what to do with the gallons of still-bubbling sauce left in the huge pot, we decided gallon Ziploc bags were our best option.
When the house cleared, my mother and I tackled the kitchen. The countertops and sink were stacked high with the best china and the remains of the dinner. Perplexed with what to do with the gallons of still bubbling sauce left in the huge pot, we decided gallon Ziploc bags were our best option and got to work ladling up the warm sauce and stacking the bags to cool. With dishes washed and leftover salad and bread stowed away, my mother made a double-fisted grab of the bags of sauce to transfer to the freezer. Swinging the heavy bags toward the double doors of the freezer, sauce burst out of the bottom of the bags like water balloons at Halloween. After the shock of being splattered with the incredibly red concoction — and laughing until we could hardly stand straight — my mother, with her usual wisdom, said, " I know, let's let the cats in!"
She opened the kitchen door to the back porch, and 18 cats flew into the kitchen, sliding wildly across the greasy pool of meat sauce, crashing into table legs, spinning their now slick red legs, trying to gain some traction, all the while licking madly at the savory delight. Who knew cats liked spaghetti so much?
Spaghetti Sauce Even Cats Like: A Recipe
Ingredients
1 lb ground beef
1 medium onion, chopped
1 medium bell pepper, chopped
6 oz mushrooms, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
Large can whole tomatoes, broken into chunks
Large can tomato sauce (or reduce and add tomato paste for thicker sauce)
2 tsp (or to taste) dried basil
2 tsp (or to taste) dried oregano
1 tbsp Worchester Sauce
¼ cup (or to taste) dry red wine (drink the rest)
2 tsp of sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
Parmesan cheese, grated
Instructions
Brown ground beef in sauté pan. As the beef is browning, sauté onions, bell pepper and mushrooms in deep sauté pan. When vegetables are soft and onions translucent, add garlic and sauté for one additional minute, stirring to keep garlic from burning. Add browned ground beef to the vegetables and season with salt and pepper. Add remainder of the ingredients, reduce heat and simmer slowly for 45 minutes, stirring periodically. Taste, adjust seasonings and serve over spaghetti, then top with fresh grated Parmesan cheese. Delicious!
Cym Doggett writes, but she is primarily an artist who transforms metals into graceful representations of nature. She lives and works in Huntsville, Alabama.