Noodle on Potatoes. Who'd a thunk? Can't forget the gravy. Yum.
Growing up, whenever we went to Grandma and Grandpa Miller's house, we always had "noodles" designated for one special meal. Both sides of my mom's grandparents used to cook the following German meal every Sunday: roast, mashed potatoes, and homemade noodles cooked in the roast drippings making gravy, which is then poured over the potatoes. The ultimate carb-loading meal. My sister Carrie, my mom, my dad, and I all warned Allison that it is one of the heaviest meals she'll ever eat. After you're done your stomach feels like you swallowed a brick. Well, I decided that we needed to get in touch with our heritage this past week and learn to make "noodles." So we did. We rolled out the homemade noodles on Thursday and completed the meal today. When I was making the gravy, Allison said it smelled like animal.
Here it is:
Allison enjoyed her first experience eating "noodles." She would like to mention that she could literally feel every swallow creep down her throat and settle in her stomach because it is such a heavy meal. The heritage continues with another generation, and hopefully will continue when we force it upon our children and their children and so on. Because our kids are going to be 1/4 German, 1/4 Chinese, 1/4 Taiwanese, and 1/4 Northern European mutt.
At least your kids are "pure" enough to claim a specific country. Our poor child(ren) are(will) be 100% pure Northern European mutt. Don't tell Jess about the noodles. He might get hungry :)
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