Noodle Salad

Some of us have great stories, pretty stories that take place at lakes, with boats, and friends, and noodle salad. Just no one in this car. But, a lot of people, that's their story; good times, noodle salad. What makes it so hard is not that you had it bad, but that you're that pissed that so many others had it good.

- Melvin Udall, As Good as It Gets

Noodle Salad. Or in my family, Macaroni Salad. My Grandma used to make it. Regular Grandma. She made it every year for the Farmers Festival and numerous other family or church potlucks. It's not typical macaroni salad. It's nothing like what you'd get in a grocery store and I've never had anything like it. It's amazing. It's special.

Perfection.

I made it 15 years ago or so for the first time. I called her to get the recipe. She thought that was silly. Why would I want to make that old salad? I've made it a few times since but not with the frequency that she made it. Probably has something to do with the amount of church potlucks I don't attend.

Now I have her recipe. Framed. Clipped from a newspaper when God was a boy. It's faded and discolored. And well loved. And freaking* delicious.

I entered that salad into a contest today. In the Side Dish category.

Cooking contests aren't really my thing. I've never done it before. But I packed that salad up in the vintage pyrex my grandma used and I entered.



Before I left for the event, my mom texted me, 'Good luck! I hope you win, you're a terrible loser.' A pretty true statement, there.

While the votes were being tallied, the boy, now 13, looked at me and said, 'If you win this, it's all on Grandma Aileen!'

Indeed.

And, I won.

Or, rather, Regular Grandma won.

*Even with the win, Grandma wouldn't appreciate that language. 

#winning