As you know, I’ve been helping my parents move to a new home for the past three days. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I didn’t get much sleep. Lost a couple fingernails. Grew a few gray hairs. Crushed a toe beneath a 70 lb. dishpack of glassware thanks to, well, someone who shall remain nameless, and because I was dealing with family, I was forced into a dreaded conversation.
Dinner…sister, sister’s boyfriend, nephew, dad, mom, me.
Dad, spreading clarified butter on his bread, “What is this, schmaltz? This looks like the schmaltz my mother used to spread on my bread when I was a kid.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “It’s ghee.”
Dad: “What’s ghee?”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Ghee.”
Dad: “Yeah, but what’s ghee? It looks like schmaltz.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Ghee.”
Oh for god’s sake. Me: “It’s butter, dad. It’s clarified butter. That means it’s been melted or simmered, the water and the milk solids removed, leaving only the butter fat.”
Dad: “Why would you do that? Why not just eat butter?”
Me: Noncommittal shrug.
Dad: “It sure looks like schmaltz.”
Me: “Yeah, well it’s basically the same thing, fat.”
Dad: “Oh.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “It’s not fat, it’s ghee.”
Me: “Of course it’s fat. If you remove the water and the milk solids, all you’re left with is the butter fat. It’s the same as schmaltz, chicken fat.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “It’s not fat. It’s ghee.”
Who’s on first. Me: “If it’s not fat, what is it?”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Ghee.”
What’s on second. Me: “Well, what do you think ghee is?”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Butter that’s been turned into ghee.”
Controlling homicidal thoughts. Me: “This is not alchemy. Cooking the butter did not transmute it into another substance altogether. Ghee is butter fat.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “No, it’s not. It’s not fat.”
I Don’t Know’s on third. Me: “Then what is it?”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Ghee.”
Nephew snorts ice tea out his nose.
Dad: “It tastes like schmaltz to me. It even spreads like it.”
Me: “That’s because it’s fat, dad. Pure fat.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “No, it’s not.”
Sister, coming outside with a plastic cup of acai berry concentrate and another of goji berry concentrate, dumps them into my water.
Me: “Hey, what are you doing?”
Sister: “You need to drink these. They’re high in anti-oxidants.”
Me: “I hate acai berries and goji berries. They taste like poison. Why did you pour this shit in my water?”
Nephew snorts ice tea out of his nose a second time.
Sister: “Because these berries have the highest concentration of anti-oxidants of any food. You’ll feel better.”
Me: “I’m not sick.”
Sister: “I am.”
Me: “Then you drink it.” And why is this tabouli made with quinoa instead of couscous? Quinoa gives me a stomachache.
Dad: “This sure tastes like schmaltz.”
Mom: “The bluejays here don’t look like the bluejays back in Iowa.”
Dad: “What did you say this is called?”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Ghee.”
Dad: “Why would you make ghee to put on bread when you can just eat butter?”
Sister’s boyfriend: “Because ghee isn’t butter any more.”
Gaaaaaaaa! Me: “It’s butter, all right? It’s butter fat. That’s all it is, that’s all it will ever be. Butter fat. It’s rendered butter. You can use it to cook at higher temperatures and it keeps longer, but it’s still butter fat. Butter. Fat. It’s almost exactly the same as rendered chicken fat, schmaltz.”
Sister’s boyfriend: “It’s ghee.”
Nephew spews quinoa all over the table.
Repeat after me: I am not allowed to strangle my sister and her boyfriend. I am not allowed to strangle my sister and her boyfriend. I am not allowed to strangle my sister and her boyfriend.
Ghee: from Sanskrit, ghrta, clarified butter, is rendered milk fat. It is made by melting unsalted butter, letting the milk solids (proteins) settle to the bottom and siphoning or spooning off the amber-colored liquid on top, or ghee. Ghee does not spoil easily. Like any clarified butter, ghee is composed almost entirely of fat. Fat. Fat. Fat.
Schmaltz: from Yiddish, rendered chicken or goose fat. The rendering (melting) process removes the water and proteins from the fat. The melted fat is strained to remove any browned bits. Schmaltz does not spoil easily. In Jewish cooking, it is often used as a spread for bread.
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LMAO! Sorry you had a rough few days.
Do we come from the same family? Only my conversation is
Mom: My blood sugar was x yesterday and today it is x + 2. It must have been th apple I ate.
Me: Mom statistically there is no difference between x and x + 2. Your machine is not sensitive enough to have that be outside the margin of error.
Mom: You could be right. I just wonder why it’s different today than yesterday.
OR
Mom: I don’t agree with interracial couples. It says it’s not allowed in the bible.
Me: M & P are an interracial couple, you love them.
Mom: Thanks ok, she’s Chinese and He’s white so that’s not the same.
Me: My husband is part Native American, does that count?
Mom: No.
And, so on.
Oh yes, the classic
Me: Of course you have a rash if you’ve been touching that; it’s poison ivy.
Sister’s Boy friend: No it isn’t. I was a scout leader I know.
Me: Yes, it is, I was a scout, I know. You know Leaves of three let it be?
Sister’s BF: That’s not Poison Ivy. Scratches hand.
hee heee….Family: Gotta Love Em. Good luck!
There’s a reason we don’t all live together…
You got that right, Anny!
Yes, Penny, I love them even though we are all crazy!
Steph! Sounds strangely familiar!
LOL, Steph! My mother-in-law, rest her soul, said stuff like that.
Amber - it was a funny few days, with a lot of work thrown in.
Your sister’s boyfriend is right, Ghee is ghee, and it will always be ghee without beginning or end. Like an eternal circle, ghee simply is, we cannot question it. It is enough to know it exists and marvel at its presence. Ghee (along with schmaltz) is one of nature’s great mysteries and akin to the incorruptible element, gold. It’s listed on the periodic table as Gh. Ghee is a product of imploding stars within our Milky Way… lol
(Poor thing! How did you survive this meal? How will you survive this week!)
XXOO Kat
Yes, Kat, yes! You’ve explained the meaning of life to me!
Hey, I’m home - got a lot done in three days, you wouldn’t believe it!
No alcohol available?? I would have needed sedation and lots of it. We used to have similar conversations with DH’s parents.
Riding along in backseat of car as FIL & MIL are upfront. We come to a lake.
MIL: ahhh. It reminds me of Lake Louise.
DH: I didn’t know you’d been there.
MIl: We weren’t.
Me: But you just said it reminded you of Lake Louise.
MIL: Yeah, it’s what I think it would have looked like if we’d ever gone there.
DH & Me: Uncontrollable laughter
FIL: what are you laughing about?
DH& Me: can’t answer too busy laughing…
Sharon - when my dad and I got back to his house, we each had a glass of wine.
Hilarious. Sitcom material.
Sandra, my family falls into the Everybody Loves Raymond category.