LUNCH IN THE FIELD

Traveling across the states of Montana and North Dakota last week, I saw lots of wheat fields being harvested. The combines sweeping across vast stretches of gold left endless stubble in their wake. I saw a pickup with a woman and children bumping along the field, about to meet up with the man on the combine.

I felt an instant pang of remembrance of my brothers and I piling in the car with Mom to bring Dad and my Uncle Harold “dinner” in the field. That’s what we called the noon meal. And why wouldn’t we? It was a huge spread flanked by salad and dessert and the evening meal, “supper,” was exactly like it.

As noon approached, on a “field meal” day, Mom would pull kettles off the stove and roasters out of the oven and put together individual salads in little Tupperware containers for each of us. She never packed paper plates, we always used real dishes and flatware, and included various condiments like salt and pepper, pickles, ketchup, mustard, mayo, relish and even a little bowl of sugar for my uncle’s coffee. She wrapped each serving dish in newspaper then tied a white cotton dishtowel around each one. Then she packed the whole works in a big cardboard box saved in the basement for such purposes. The serving utensils were toted in a wicker picnic basket and, lastly, blankets and rag rugs were packed for our comfort as we sat on the stubble in the shade of the combine and enjoyed our meal.

The only part of this thing I remember with a tinge of nausea is if Mom put the food in the car and not in the trunk. If it was just the two of us, and the boys were also working in the field, she put the food in the back seat to avoid the dust that lived in the trunk and swirled around our heads from the gravel roads we traveled with the car windows rolled down (we had no air conditioning) and it was easier to deal with if you didn’t need to “dust your dinner” before eating it. However, the repugnant (at least to ME) aroma of food sweltering in newspaper, cotton and cardboard was almost more than I could stand and I remember hanging my head out the window like a dog to avoid losing it in the car. If we traveled a far distance (5 or 10 miles to another farm), I would have to get my appetite back by walking around the field and breathing the late summer air.

Once I saw Mom dishing up mountains of mashed potatoes, juicy pork chops with gravy or meatloaf and creamed green beans from the garden, or discovered the array of dessert selections like chocolate cake with fluffy white frosting or Dad’s favorite, sour cream raisin pie or peach crisp, I forgot the whole disgusting odor still lingering in the warm car. How could food so delicious have such a dark side? I don’t know, but I’ve never forgotten it.

FIELD MEAL MEATLOAF

1-1/2 pounds ground beef

1 cup bread crumbs

1 egg, beaten

1 small onion, chopped

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1 small can tomato sauce

1 tablespoon vinegar

2 tablespoons mustard

2 tablespoons brown sugar

In a mixing bowl, stir together meat, bread crumbs, egg, onion, salt, pepper and half the can of tomato sauce. Put in a loaf pan or an 8 inch square pan. In a small bowl, combine the other half of tomato sauce, vinegar, mustard and brown sugar. Spread over top of meatloaf and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.

OAT STUBBLE PEACH CRISP

4 cups peaches, peeled and sliced

3/4 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup flour

1/2 cup rolled oats

3/4 teaspoon cinnamon and nutmeg

1/3 cup butter

Place peaches in the bottom of an 8 inch square pan. In a medium bowl, combine topping ingredients and cut in butter. When crumbly cover top of peaches with this mixture and pat lightly. Bake at 375 degrees for 30 minutes.

WHEAT HARVEST SOUR CREAM RAISIN PIE

9 inch pie crust, unbaked

1 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon flour

3/4 teaspoon cinnamon

3/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1 cup raisins

1 cup sour cream

2 egg yolks, beaten

1 tablespoon butter, melted

1 teaspoon vanilla

In a mixing bowl, stir together brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg and raisins. In a separate bowl, mix sour cream, eggs, butter and vanilla. Pour into an unbaked pie crust. Bake 10 minutes at 425 degrees, then reduce heat to 350 degrees and bake until firm, about 30 to 40 minutes more. Top with meringue.

MERINGUE

6 egg whites

Scant 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

3/4 cup sugar

1 tablespoon cornstarch

Beat egg whites with cream of tartar until frothy. Gradually beat in sugar. Beat until very stiff, but not dry. Sprinkle cornstarch in a beat until blended. Spread meringue over hot pie, sealing to edges. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 to 15 minutes until browned. Cool gradually and avoid drafts. Keep leftovers refrigerated.