The Real, Truly Original Chex Mix Recipe a.k.a. "Scrambles"

It's almost Thanksgiving, almost my birthday. We've negotiated the twin seasonal portals of Halloween and Election Day (why "twin?" Because both days involve a lot of dressing up, a lot of false faces, the passing out of sweets and other benefits, and once the dust has settled and the papers are picked up , not much to really show for it..). Now it's finally growing colder. Most of the leaves are down, except for a few rattly brown pompoms that shake and rustle in the breezes and in the passing of my horses as they step carefully between trees on our morning rides. We begin to look forward to holiday foods and snacks: turkey and dressing, ham, sweet potatoes, pies and cakes, cookies and candy, hot chocolate and hot toddies. In short, nothing much that's good for you, but hey, winter's coming on and perhaps some primoridal instinct buried deep within our subconscious is responding to the shorter days by trying to convince us it's entirely appropriate to put on some body fat to shield us from the chill winter winds. OK, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

With that in mind, I share one of my favorite holiday recipes: "Scrambles." This one goes way back before I was born (yeah, that's WAY back), to the days when my child-free parents held card parties and other holiday get-togethers. I can remember wolfing down bowls of Scrambles at my parents' parties till my lips shriveled up from the salt. Conditioning my maturing digestive tract with this stuff probably goes a long way toward explaining my current iron-clad constitution, gastrointestinally speaking.

Scrambles are not for the faint-hearted (or for the diseased-hearted, for that matter). If you choose to indulge, do so at your own risk and in moderation at first. But enjoy!

Don't be fooled by the recipes posted online and on boxes now touting the "Original" Chex Mix - it uses bagel chips, and a microwave. BAGEL chips!! WTF?? No one from my parents' generation living outside of New York City had even heard of bagels back in the 1950's, much less bagel CHIPS.

This IS the original. It's been typed with a manual typewriter on a recipe card that is tattered and browned at the edges from use. It was served by the Armco Girls' Association when it and Armco Steel existed here in Middletown, Ohio.
Happy Holidays!

2 lbs mixed salted nuts (I just use peanuts and cashews.)
1 12-oz box Wheat Chex
1 10.5 oz box Cheerios
1 6.5 oz box Rice Chex
1 6 oz bag pretzel sticks or bits or minis
2 cups salad oil
2 Tbsp. worcestershire sauce
1 Tbsp. garlic salt (or 1 tbsp. garlic oil)
2 Tbsp. Lawry's seasoned salt.

NOTE: the measurements for the DRY ingredients are approximate; box sizes have changed! Plus - you can add more of the ones you like, less of the ones you don't.

Mix all ingredients in a very large roaster, tub or on a large sheet of brown paper (NOTE: I mix the liquid up first in a blender, then pour it on the dry ingredients that I've shaken together in a big tupperware cake storage tub. Shake, shake, shake...it's the only calories you'll burn with this puppy!).

Spread the coated ingredients out in a couple of big pans and bake in a 250-degree (NOT A TYPO! NOT 350!!) oven (Microwave? We don't need no stinkin' microwave!!!) for about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, stirring every 15 minutes and being careful not to crush the cereals. Makes - a bunch. Store in plastic bags when cool.

Memorable Meals, Forgotten Festivals

Home and Away Magazine - published by AAA - has a feature entitled "Back Page" which asks readers to submit travel stories on a variety of subjects. The most recent assignment was ""Tell us about the best festival you've ever attended while traveling and why it was special." So I submitted the following. The real challenge was not recounting the story - it was making it short. This should not surprise anyone who knows me.


My mother and I – and a busload of traveling companions - were on a tour of Europe in October, 1995; we were scheduled to arrive at Innsbruck, Austria early in the day with most of the afternoon free to explore, but due to a labor strike which delayed traffic for several hours we stumbled out of the bus late in the afternoon and were informed by our guide that we had exactly 45 minutes to see the town square before moving on to Munich, Germany to spend the night. We were tired, stiff and in my case nursing a migraine, a situation which hunger did not improve even though everyone on the bus had been generous about sharing whatever treats they had purchased along the way. I stared blearily at my surroundings but my interest was suddenly revived by a magical aroma that was wafted along on the warm autumn breeze – brats! There was a festival in the town square and glory be, someone was selling bratwurst. I hurried over to the booth, but realized at the time, coming out of Italy as we were, I had only Italian currency. “Does anyone speak English?” I asked at the bratwurst booth. One person nodded tentatively, in the universal language that translates as “yeah…sort of…” “Will you take lira?” I asked (this was before the Euro became standard currency). “How much?” There was some discussion in Austrian among the booth workers. “Fifty thousand lira,” one said. My head was aching too badly to do the math; I scrabbled in my bag for a 50,000 lira bill. Suddenly another person waiting in line bravely threw herself between me and my waiting bratwurst. More discussion ensued and the booth worker turned sheepishly to me. “Five thousand lira,” she amended. OK – I had one of those too. I handed it over and was rewarded with a plate containing two brats, a huge chunk of rye bread and a puddle of spicy mustard. I never learned the name of the festival, but we remember it and Innsbruck fondly as the location of a truly delicious and reviving meal, as well as for the good Samaritan in line who prevented me from accidentally spending the equivalent of $50 for a brat - although in retrospect I was so hungry it probably would have been worth it!