What? Who’s at the dinner table?

I’ll admit–it took me a long time to get here.  As much as I wanted to start posting, I needed the perfect idea for our first meeting.  I wanted something that would perfectly segue into later gatherings, but something special and sentimental, too.  So, here it is.

Had it not been for my grandmother, I might not be sharing the wonders of food with you.  So many of us are shaped by experiences with our grandparents, and I am no different.  I spent much time with her throughout the summers and other school breaks when I was growing up, and I learned a lot, but not because she was trying to teach me.  She was just there with me in the moment, doing what she did and letting me help along the way.

Every day, Granny would get up the in morning to make fresh biscuits and in the winter mornings, build a fire in the cast iron wood stove.  I can still hear the clank of the metal door and smell the wood burning.  I would eventually awaken (mind you, this would be about 4 a.m.) when the rooster crowed and she could be heard moving around in the kitchen.  I would always be reminded that I should be sleeping, but I wanted to help.  Grandmas can hardly resist their cute lil’ granddaughters (wink).

It was there that I learned how to use a rolling pin and cut biscuits, but it could never be left at just that.  When you’ve gathered the dough and rolled it out several times, you eventually end up with only a little dough (or maybe I convinced her it was only a little).   “Can I make it any way I want?” I would ask.  Of course, she always let me…so I’d make little biscuit people, complete with biscuit lips, biscuit eyes, and biscuit hair.  After that, I would maybe get in a tiny bit of trouble for opening the oven door too many times because I couldn’t wait to see what they were going to look like!

While I did that, Granny would work on the rest of breakfast, which often included chocolate gravy as a special treat!  Yes, chocolate gravy!!!  The trick is to put a pat of butter on a piping hot, open biscuit, and put the hot gravy on top.  The butter will melt, and then you will experience a little piece of heaven.  (I know, I know, it’s not a health food, but seriously, we all start somewhere!)

Those mornings sitting at the table together (I will talk about the importance of that later) are priceless.  I wouldn’t trade anything for those conversations about her childhood, the laughter we shared, or the bond we created one meal at a time!  She also (secretly) allowed me to have coffee (with tons of sugar!), so I promised to sort of look the other way when I had my own kids because I knew my mom would allow things that I never would.  It’s just part of the experience.

That’s a little of what life is about!  The freedom to learn with those you love, the freedom to mess up, to create, to experiment.  I became comfortable handling food, comfortable being in the kitchen, watching, and learning.  I feel like I’ve recreated that with my children, or I hope I have.  They love life in the kitchen, and I love having their assistance!

I’ll always fondly remember my Granny and be eternally grateful for the way she lovingly allowed biscuit people at the dinner table!

May you make fun memories in your own kitchen this week!