Thursday, November 09, 2006

Hot Mama!

BEFORE you go all ballistic on me... I am NOT referring to a woman or a stereotypical group of women in this title.

A 'Hot Mama' is a wondrous culinary delight that grew out of a special ministry that was shepherded by Tom when he lived at a student cooperative during his undergraduate years.

In the early 1970's at a small liberal arts college in southern lower Michigan there existed a 'radical-hippie-commune' student cooperative called the Goodrich Club. (The Club still exists today and carries on many of the traditions of earlier years.)
At the time the Club was all-male - a legacy of the strict views of the college. Tom decided that his personal contribution to the Club, above and beyond his regular duties, was to bake bread. At the time he was working for a Pizza shop and worked out a deal to use the mixer and the ovens after hours. So there was an abundance of fresh baked bread.

I am sure in my own mind that Tom's Gift to the club was a sort of a cross between meditation and service (ministry in action). Perhaps there was no distinction for Tom. Perhaps baking bread was just his calling.

So there was bread, many many loaves of fresh baked bread. And there was a house full of hungry young men. Young radical hippie young men and associated radical hippie young women who frequently stimulated their appetites with the serious pursuit of academic excellence, intellectual stimulation, long days and long nights of applied study and of course just a little, just a wee bit of... the munchies.

Did I mention the ministerial efforts of Tom and the presence of fresh baked bread? Oh yeah! Night or day, morning or evening there was bread. Two slices cut to an individual's particular taste and popped into the toaster. Liberally spread (it is a liberal arts college, after all) with butter on one piece and peanut butter on the other then joined in culinary matrimony to become the 'Hot Mama'. Oh yeah!

In our hours of need Tom's ministry fed us. Thanks Tom.

This was brought to the surface of my fuzzy memory by the grace of my wife's contribution, Gift, to our family - fresh baked bread. That I dutifully toast, butter, peanut butter and then enjoy as a 'Hot Mama'.

[UPDATE] Tom offered the following ...

Out of respect to the memory of my late Gramma who taught me to love
hot mammas, it must be said that the 'original' is (simply) open-faced, toast with peanut butter and jelly. And to this day, in our clan--or tribe--that is what a hot
mamma is.

. . .