Why I Love Ham Salad Sandwiches With Baloney By T.D. Richards In the cassock of her feed sack apron, Mom moved in the kitchen with sacramental intent, bending under the cupboard to withdraw the oiled meat grinder, her mother’s wedding gift. As her acolyte, I clamped the grinder to the counter while she chopped chubs of baloney and cranked them into mince meat to mix with sweet pickle relish and creamy mayonnaise and soda crackers that crunched and crackled through the razor edged cutting plate. She raised white Wonder bread asleep in its warren to chaperone the ham salad spread made with baloney. I got the meat grinder when mom died nd my sister got the recipes I knew by heart. I’m told there may be a final Feast to come. If so, I implore that Mom be chosen to make ham salad sandwiches with baloney and I be invited to eat them ad infinitum. Bio: T.D. Richards is a freelance writer who has written poetry as a way of sharing his lifelong observations from w
Flying Island is the Online Literary Journal of the Indiana Writers Center, accepting submissions from Midwest residents and those with significant ties to the Midwest.