Chicken For Dinner

I grew up on a dairy farm in central Minnesota. My parents worked hard at full time jobs along with farming. A strong work ethic was very important to both of them. We were always encouraged to keep busy. My siblings and I would help in the vegetable and flower gardens and we also helped to keep the house clean. We were expected to be at the table for meal times. This was the time of the day when we would catch up with what everyone was doing and if anyone had plans for the evening. My mother always provided delicious home cooked meals. My favorite was when she made her chicken dinner.

As I mentioned we had a dairy farm so there was always a great deal of beef in the freezer and on the dinner table. It was a treat to have a chicken dinner. Mom would brown the chicken in a huge caste iron frying pan and then bake it until it was falling off the bones tender. She made gravy out of the drippings from browning the chicken and serve that with mashed potatoes and a vegetable. In the summer months cucumber salad was also served with the chicken dinner. When ever we knew that mom was making her chicken dinner we would be waiting at the table for the meal to begin.

As the years passed we all moved away from the farm. My father passed away and the acreage was split up for a housing development and my mother moved to a senior apartment building. We visit her as often as we can. Last week she called and asked if my husband and I would come and have Sunday dinner with her. I had several reasons why this would not be convenient for us, but I accepted the invitation and told my husband that we would only stay for a short time so we could get the many things done that we had on our to do list for the weekend.

As we were driving to the apartment complex it began to rain out. We both agreed that it was good that we had accepted the initiation because we would not be getting any yard work done anyway. As we neared the door to my mother’s apartment I could smell the wonderful aroma of baked chicken. Mom opened the door wearing an apron and announced that she had made her chicken dinner. The smells and tastes took me back to the days on the farm. We ate and visited and spent the after noon playing cribbage. It is amazing how something as simple as a chicken dinner can remind you what is really important in life.