Tuesday, July 20, 2010


There are so many things that happen in a kitchen, sounds, smells, mishaps, disasters but most importantly fellowship. My greatest memories have been in kitchens. Making Jesus’ birthday cake for Christmas with my mother and sisters, watching my dad make the only thing I’ve ever seen him cook, egg sandwiches. Gross. I remember smelling my aunt Lois’ candied pecans and cookies, my Granny always having cold crisp cranberry juice ready for me when I visited and watching my aunt Polly make gooseberry cobbler just for my my dad and me. No one else liked it, especially my mother, but I can still remember the sugar sprinkled on top and eating it with vanilla ice cream. I can still feel the tang of those gooseberries. Hits you right in the back of the throat. What’s a kitchen without friends and family to make all those memories with? So this is a blog about just that, my kitchen, your kitchens. It’s about the stories and food that go in and out of our kitchens everyday, season to season, year to year. This all started because I told my sister I wanted to make a cookbook. Who know's what it will turn into? Here's what I do know. It’s about the food that’s good, some really good, and some that's really bad. Everyone’s journey isn’t the same but everyone needs to eat.


Martha said...

I'm a lot older than you so I saw a bigger repertoire of cooking from Dad. He made grilled cheeese sandwiches (actually he taught Ben how to make these the last time we were home). And when I was very young but still able to wield the metal french fry slicer, I remember him heating a large vat of hot oil into which he poured those thick home sliced potatoes. I remember peeling the potatoes on the kitchen floor. I had to have been 7 years old or so. It's a wonder I don't have more scars. But those french fries were deadly good. Wait. I'm having a pancake memory too. Big thick ones.

Dani said...

really?? no way! He was holding out on us babies!! LOL!! Those french fries sound gooooood.