By DON FOWLER My mother wasn't a great cook by any means. But could she make great coleslaw! Growing up, I was her official taster. I would stand beside her in the kitchen as she grated the cabbage, carrots, onions and peppers into fine pieces. I'd watch
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My mother wasn’t a great cook by any means. But could she make great coleslaw!
Growing up, I was her official taster. I would stand beside her in the kitchen as she grated the cabbage, carrots, onions and peppers into fine pieces. I’d watch closely as she added the mayonnaise, vinegar, oil, and dash of sugar, salt and pepper.
The she would let me taste it. Proportions had to be just right. It was the ultimate taste test.
It was never perfect on the first forkful, so I needed to try three or four.
When we were both satisfied that the delicacy was at the point of perfection, the bowl was relegated to the “icebox” (mom never called it a refrigerator) to properly blend.
Never, it all these years, have I been able to duplicate that perfect taste. My wife, my friends, gourmet restaurants and delis don’t even come close.
Guess who comes closest? Kentucky Fried Chicken.
I always wondered where the term coleslaw came from. Spell check doesn’t even accept the word “cole,” redlining it as I now type it on my computer.
Google says it is from the Dutch “kool sla,” meaning cabbage salad.
However you spell it or make it, it will never be as good as my mom’s.
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