I was looking at one of my food choppers—I have several—the other day, and an amusing thought came to me. What would my Dad say if he could see one of his favourite kitchen tools being used as a bookend, door stop, or simply as vintage décor? He would surely roll his eyes and whistle through his teeth something like, “Sheeeesh!”

That old cast iron food grinder— meat grinder, as we always called it— seemed like a permanent fixture on our kitchen counter, with Dad more often than not at the helm. In contrast to our many convenient appliances today, this one did take a bit of elbow grease, especially when dealing with last night’s roast or a particularly fatty bit of ham. But in a home where nothing went to waste, as most of us brought up in the ‘50s remember, the Sunday roast became Monday’s shepherd’s pie, and an Easter ham became ground luncheon meat.

But Dad went much further with his grinder than many of his contemporaries; he was really into some interesting flavour combinations, especially when it was our parents’ turn to host Bridge night. One of his strangest creations— at least at the age of 9 or 10, I thought it strange—was a walnut and green olive paté that was used for pinwheel sandwiches. My Dad was making tapenade, and he didn’t even know it!

There were some other rather odd Maloney specials that I’m sure had our lunch mates rolling their eyes. We always had two, ten-pound blocks of cheese in the bottom of the fridge; one of white old cheddar and the other an orange new cheddar. From the orange block, Dad would make his own version of Cheez Whiz. He ground the cheese, and with Mom’s salad dressing, made a cheese spread that makes me wonder how I can stomach the processed stuff today. He did the same thing with salted peanuts, skins left on, again mixed with Mom’s salad dressing; nothing would have been the same without Mom’s salad dressing. I can remember standing in the fridge door with a spoon and eating the nutty-pickley stuff straight out of the bowl. It is little wonder that I had weight issues as a young girl.

Mom ground any leftover ham with sweet pickles (and her salad dressing) to make us a favourite lunch spread, but it also was to-die-for used in a cheese melt, covered in a thick slab of real cheese. I don’t recall ever having any sort of processed slices or Velveeta in our home. Even grilled cheese was made from slices of cheddar.

I’m sure there were other fillings Dad made, but those were my favourites. Mom’s favourite pinwheel sandwich (I suppose I really mean mine) for Bridge night was cream cheese rolled up with a maraschino cherry. You can bet there were a few holes in the sandwich tray presentation by the time it reached the card players.

I called Mom yesterday; told her I had been remembering Dad’s walnut and olive spread, and as unbelievable as this may sound, she told me that she hadn’t pulled the old grinder out in years, but in just the past few weeks, after Easter, she had used it to grind up some leftover ham to make a casserole. Is that weird? Or is it just that inexplicable cosmic bond between a mother and her daughter.

On that note, I will give you the secret to all of the great sandwiches we ate as kids: Mom’s cooked salad dressing. Tuna, salmon, or egg salads would not have been the same without it, and I have never run across a bottled brand that tastes exactly like it.

My Mom’s Cooked Salad Dressing:

Mix Together        -1/2Cup white sugar

                        -2 tbsp flour

                        -pinch of salt

                        -1 cup white vinegar

Add & Heat    -4 whole eggs

                        -1tsp dry mustard (dissolved in 1 tbsp boiling water)

                        -1/2 cup milk

Cook slowly till thick (and until the whole house is filled with the eye-tearing aroma of sweet pickles!)

I feel suddenly inspired to actually use my pistachio-green door stop, or my vintage №10 food chopper, still in its original box. Now let’s see…”To assemble—Place stationary steel plate on the feed worm ….tightening only sufficiently to prevent end-play of the feed worm, but allowing the worm to turn freely.” Sheeesh!