Instead, I honour her memory by making a poor imitation of her chicken stew, which she always served served over rice.
"For supper, cut-up chicken,
the comfort of stew, thick
and flecked with golden carrots."
In keeping with her traditions, the salad should be made from iceberg lettuce. Since I don't have any, the leafy green stuff has to substitute. I did at least slice the greens into almost-shreds as she would have. I also topped it with the dressing she would have made -- plain oil with a dash of white vinegar, then salt and a whole lot of black pepper.
This supper has a couple of additions -- horseradished beets, the way she would have made them, but something else that's our own distinctive addition. When we went for a walk this afternoon, we found quite a few parasol mushrooms. Fried up as a side dish, they're a treat worthy of a birthday commemoration.