Long before the advent of computer dating, certain foods were introduced to each other. Meat seemed to suit potatoes quite well. The offspring, of course, was named gravy. Ham hocks wedded split peas, with onions, carrots, and seasonings in attendance. That marriage continues harmoniously as split pea soup.
Many chance encounters produced amazing results. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches come to mind. What red-blooded youngster ever left home to join the circus without one?
Eggs said hello to bacon one morning, and grits sidled up to hunks of ham and drawled, "Hi, y'all." There was no flag-waving; just tradition setting in at home, at the diner, and abroad.
Watercress was accosted by little triangles and rounds of thinly buttered bread during high tea. This was a rather formal arrangement, engineered by matriarchs bent on balancing sweets with a savory sampling of greens on pretty bread arrangements. Fragile though it was, the twosome survived the lace-gloved prettiness of yesteryear and remains reliable.
Meanwhile, in the czar's great kitchens, a somber Orthodox marriage took place between sour cream and thin slices of filet mignon. "Gently! Gently!" cried the chef, as the world's first beef Stroganoff took its vows. The kabobs of Genghis Khan - vegetables and chunks of meat threaded onto swords and roasted over flames - had no such admonitions from prenuptial counselors. Kabobs, whether raw or scorched, were marriages made in heaven.
In Germany, the goose's arrangement with red cabbage stuffing was approved by all; while in Nordic countries, the lovelorn salmon's problem was by an introduction to the fragrant and tasty dill.
Corned beef met cabbage long ago in the British Isles. Horseradish and mustard hung around for awhile, waiting to be introduced. Luckily, they were. Many happy unions date from that era: Lamb met green peas and mint sauce, and Yorkshire pudding sizzled with delight at being paired with a standing rib roast.
In France, filet of sole said "bonjour" to slivered almonds and decide to double-date with broccoli Hollandaise. "Mais oui." Call it what you will, but filet of sole amandine and broccoli Hollandaise will always sing in harmony.
On the other side of the world, plum sauce and pancakes floundered in loneliness until a Chinese-speaking roast duck happened along.
In early America, bread found fame and companionship after meeting up with a holiday turkey. Not to be outdone, cranberries turned out to be the sauce for the gander.
Saucy tomatoes really got around. It was hard to find any food that wasn't bowled over by this luscious treat. Tomatoes traveled in the best of company from Mexico to Spain to Italy.
Cottage cheese led a boring - if aristocratic - life until it met tropical fruit at the salad bar. Fish and chips, however, paired up in a pub. It seemed odd that fish would see anything in chips and vice versa, but
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