The Last of my California Vacation Arrived

When we were in Long Beach, we spent some time at We Olive tasting all of the wonderful California olive oils. Of course, I couldn't bring any back because of restrictions on liquids, but John was kind enough to send it via the post and included a little something extra: Brunette Belgian praline spread. Yum, can't wait to taste it, but not sure what I should put it on. Toast? Pancakes?

I also can't wait to try the lime olive oil and the blackberry balsamic vinegar with pear...

Back to the Cucumber Salad

My paternal grandmother, Lora Mildred Marie Stevenson Whisenhunt (almost Thomas) and me, a few days before my third birthday. (Called Mildred by most, she was Mam-ma to many more people than her grandchildren.) She was to be married the day before my third birthday and would miss my party while on her honeymoon, so we celebrated early.(shown here) Ever year on my birthday, she would call and remind me of how she had missed my third birthday and how we had a special party.

This summer, we have received piles and piles of really exquisite Asian or English cucumbers. These are the very long and slender ones you often find wrapped in plastic at the supermarket and marketed as burp-less or seedless. There are some small seeds, but these are easily scraped out and discarded.

I like to make a crisp, refreshing salad by combining them with onion and some sort of dressing. I usually just use a vinegar and water mixture, but as mentioned a few posts ago I also like to use sour cream and dill which turns them into crunchy/creamy combo.

When I was growing up, I don't think we every had a meal at my Mam-ma's that didn't involve a bowl of cucumbers and onions. She would slice peeled cukes thinly, not bothering to remove the seeds, and mix them with some white onion, white distilled vinegar and a little bit of sugar. Their sharp, astringent taste was always a perfect complement to the casserole or macaroni she had prepared to go with the steak, roast or chicken that was the centerpiece of the meal.

I remember when I was in college, I called her to ask how to make them.

She said, "Just slice up the peeled cucumber, add sliced onion, vinegar, water and a little salt and a little sugar."

I said "How much vinegar? How much water?"

She replied, "Enough."

I inquired again, "But, how much do you start with?"

She stated what would be obvious to someone with experience in the kitchen, "It depends on how many cucumbers you have."

"And what about the sugar? A little or a lot?"

She said, "Until it tastes right."

I admit that occasionally I do use plain white vinegar with my cucumbers, simply because I enjoy the nostalgic taste. (Not Proust's madeleines by any means, but a trip back to my childhood table.) More likely, I use some sort of fruity vinegar, which has a softer flavor. If there is sour cream, I'll mix that in. And I always enjoy a little bit of dill sprinkled over it with some freshly ground pepper. Regardless of what I mix in, I always think about my Mam-ma and our conversation about cucumber salad.