Mold, the Way It Was Meant to Be

What is it about salt, fat, and flour? Why is that so yummy? Why can’t beets, or spinach or even cauliflower taste like that?

Last night I made a roast (I got one on sale last week). I coated it with a spice rub and served it with Yorkshire pudding and a homemade horseradish sauce. Okay, I made peas too—you gotta have a vegetable. But I didn’t eat any, just cut me another piece of Yorkshire pudding (it’s flour, salt, eggs, and milk baked in roast drippings) and serve me another dollop of horseradish sauce.

The horseradish sauce is made from sour cream, lemon juice, paprika, salt, and freshly grated horseradish. Of course, I didn’t tell my daughter that I had to scrape off mold before I could peel the horseradish until after she’d eaten it. Deceptive? Not really—I just didn’t want her prejudices getting in the way. And I think the experience confirms what my French friend Suzie says. This is a vague quote since I can’t remember her exact words, which I’m sure would sound even better in French: “If you don’t have to scrape the mold off something for the meal, it’s probably not worth eating.”

After Ariel found out that mold was involved with the meal, she became philosophical. She doesn’t quite agree with Suzie’s assessment, but she was willing to admit that mold probably wouldn’t deign to grow on American cheese or bologna, which Ariel believes are food scourges on the country. I agree.

Maybe we could start a Ban the Bologna protest, or hold an Ax American Cheese demonstration. Though I’d probably alienate most children, and then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of introducing them to mold. Come to the Kellers and experience mold the way it was created to be enjoyed. Yum.