My Childhood on a Plate

Scrapple.

Such an interesting word.  It can describe many things…a gelatinous meat loaf, polenta…amazing plate of awesome.

For me, it’s amazing plate of awesome.  My Granny had a recipe for Scrapple.  It’s simple.  Corn Meal and home-made Turkey Stock.  I don’t know how often she made it when my mom was a kid, but I do know it wasn’t very popular.  I’m serious…no one liked it.  Expect maybe Mom.  My Aunt has certainly expressed her distaste for it.

So, fast-forward to my generation.  Me, my cousins, their kids…Still no dice.  No one likes Scrapple. Except for my family.  Mom, Dad, and me.  I LOVE Scrapple.  Dad LOVES Scrapple, and Mom made it like no one else, but Granny.  Dad and I would always argue over who got the last slice.  There was no splitting it; it was all or nothing.  Every year at Thanksgiving, I’d make sure that Dad would take the turkey carcass so we could make it.  I would not be happy unless I knew we had that dead bird in our freezer.

Unfortunately, I don’t remember that last time we had Scrapple.  I do know it was long before mom died.  Pretty sure I was in Ju-Co, since that was the last time I lived at home.  Dad and I never really tried it ourselves…it can be tricky, and Mom was always able to pull it off.

So this year, I decided I needed to make Scrapple.  Starting with the homemade Turkey stock.  Which I had never made before.  So I took the carcass from the turkey breast I did for Thanksgiving, and the carcass from the turkey the Morning Show crew did at the station and threw them in a pot with some veggies.

My place smelled pretty good Thursday.

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And 8 hours later I got this:
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So yesterday I made the Scrapple!  Sorry…not sharing the recipe.  Just the photos!

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And after sitting in the fridge overnight…
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Yum!  Gelatinous loaf pan shaped blob!  Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to NOT eat that loaf right there?

Slice it up, flour it lightly, and into the pan it goes!

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I only burned myself twice!  I was so worth it.  Little bit of butter, a lot of syrup, and I was in heaven!

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So it seems I inherited my Mom’s ability to make Scrapple after all!  And I know, that the only two people in my family who will ever eat this is me and my Dad.  That’s okay…more for us.

And I’ll still fight anyone to the death over that last slice.

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