Aunt Gladys never called it a recipe. She called it supper. She made it in the years when the cupboards were thin and the days were long, when you stretched what you had because there wasn’t any promise of more. Ground beef if you were lucky, potatoes if you had them, carrots that kept well in the cellar. Onion because onion made everything taste like you’d tried. Whatever was left from the week went into the pot. Nothing wasted. Nothing fancy. Just food that filled the house and kept everyone warm.
My mother learned it from her, standing at the edge of the counter with her sleeves rolled up, watching Gladys turn scraps into something warm. Mom never changed the name. She called it Aunt Gladys’s Trash and laughed every time she said it, because the joke was part of the recipe too. You could use anything. You could use everything. It always came out right.
I make it now the way they did, though I tuck in rosemary and thyme from the garden and a leaf of sage when I have it. The crockpot hums through the night, and the house smells like memory by morning. It’s still a poor‑man’s dish. It still carries the same quiet pride. A meal built from what you have, handed down by women who knew how to keep a family fed even when the world was lean.
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38 comments
Thanks for sharing this piece of your family history with us. My mom grew up in hard circumstances too and also knew how to make something out of whatever there was.
Lynette, thank you. I’m touched that it connected with your own family history. Your mom knew how to make the most of what she had.
I love this Kymber, keeping tradition with the ‘trash’ crockpot. When I was a kid, my dad used to make us scrambled eggs with whatever was leftover in the fridge! 😍🧡
Thank you. I love that your dad did the same thing with leftovers. There’s something comforting about those make‑do meals and how they turn into tradition.
Been here and done this myself. No-one went hungry or to bed on an empty stomach.
Thank you, Di. It means a lot that you connected with it.🌺
A beautiful story, and brings on fond memories.
I appreciate that, Eugi. Those old memories mean a lot.
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A memorable post.
Thank you. 🌺🩷
A lovely story – I’m now feeling hungry!
LOL Thank you. We just finished our leftover Trash last night. 😂
It’s a very lovely story. Thanks for sharing! ☺️
Thank you so much! Happy Monday! 😊🩷🌺
You’re most welcome! Thank you so much! You too, Happy Monday! 💜☺️🌸
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My mom made hamburger and English peas as a one-pot meal, though we never knew times were thin…it was just supper!
That sounds so familiar, Kim. Those simple one‑pot meals had a way of feeling steady even when we didn’t know times were thin. It’s funny how those dishes stay with us.
Red beans and rice too, which is still to this day a meal I can’t stand unless my husband makes it-he uses lots of spice!
Thank you, Kim. Red beans and rice can go either way for me too. It’s funny how one person’s seasoning can make all the difference.
I enjoyed this post so much. My mother did that…we called hers hamburger stew. It didn’t always have much ground beef but lots of other stuff. It tasted good no matter what was in it.
Thank you, Mags. Hamburger stew sounds like the same kind of make‑do meal that always came out right. I love how those dishes carried whole families through the years.
That’s a really lovely story, and thank you so much for sharing it with us. From the Mennonites, I learned about Friday Night Meat Pie. The Mennonite housewife would keep three tubs in her freezer, one for proteins, one for vegetables and one for gravies. Like Aunt Gladys, the bigger the variety, the more tasty the pie is likely to be. Each night when dinner was over, she’d save the orts in the appropriate tub ’til there was enough in the three combined to feed her family. Then, on a Friday night, she’d combine all three, pour into a casserole dish and top with biscuit dough. Like you, I still make mine but instead of biscuit dough (too many carbs), I use brothy smashed sweet potatoes. I just loved reading your story! Made me smile! xx
I loved your Friday Night Meat Pie story. The way she saved the orts through the week and turned them into something warm and filling felt so familiar. There’s a quiet kind of wisdom in meals like that, and your version with the sweet potatoes sounds wonderful.
It’s always been a firm favourite in our home, through all three generations, but we’ve a few friends who, when asked for supper, wouldn’t even try it. 🙂
It’s sweet that it’s been loved through three generations, even if a few folks don’t know what they’re missing.
Poor mans food is the best kind of meal. I love meals like that where you use what you have!
I agree. There’s something steady and comforting about meals that come from whatever you have. They always seem to turn out right.
Well, your Aunt Gladys’ concoctions may have been called “trash” but I bet you’d be thrilled to have some of it now!
That’s why it’s always good to have family cookbooks to make sure that stuff lives on.
Your anecdote reminds me of my grandfather, who owned an Italian restaurant, making his “whatever’s in the fridge” lasagna.
My grandparents were really old when I was a kid, as my mom was a “mistake” pregnancy, and they were full of “old people-isms,” like calling the refrigerator “the Frigidaire.” They also had plastic on their couches like the grandparents in Everybody Loves Raymond, and my gramps delighted in being grumpy and getting away with saying anything he wanted because he was the old patriarch of the family.
I’d catch him chuckling after saying something that would horrify my mom and my aunts. It was like “I see what you did there, gramps!”
We just finished a pot of it on Sunday, so your story made me smile. Your grandfather’s ‘whatever’s in the fridge’ lasagna sounds like the same kind of make‑do meal that keeps a family going. I could picture him with the Frigidaire, the plastic‑covered couches, and that grumpy‑on‑purpose humor you described. It was a good picture of him, and it made your whole story feel alive.
Mm, I’ll try some Aunt Gladys’s trash! Fun family history, Kymber. ☺️
Lol! It’s good and there’s always plenty. 😂😊 I’d ask my mom what was for dinner and she would just say, “trash.” Lolol
A beautiful and heartwarming story, Kymber.
Thank you so much, Suzette. I’m happy you liked it.
Family recipes are lasting treasures to each generation. Great share, Kymber.
I couldn’t agree more. 🩷🌺