I used to spend the long dusty days of harvest in the stifling cab of an old Ford grain truck. To help pass the time I would daydream about supper, which my mother-in-law would bring out to the field.
Perhaps we would have garden lettuce with sweet cream dressing, 'cukes and onions in vinegar, or string beans with butter. It could be Hunter's Stew, Beef Stroganoff, or BBQ ribs. Would she bring rhubarb upside-down cake, apple pie, angel food slices with lemon icing? There might be Flathead cherries, truck farm peaches, or watermelon. We could always count on muffins, rolls or bread, and an icy...
