Food and Memories

Here in the South we make a big deal about eating good food.  There is always a memory associated with a meal, we always find a reason to celebrate and enjoy a well cooked meal.  Did a child get good grades on a test?  We celebrate with their favorite food.  Did a family member get the much needed new job?  That’s right, let’s eat! Do we want to reconnect with old friends?  Hey, come on over for a home cooked meal.  Food provides us with joy, comfort, and with memories

Today was a memory sort of day!  I was contemplating that when I was first married, almost 15 years ago, I could not cook.  My Dad’s parents bought me a subscription to “Taste of Home” Cooking magazine.  I stared at the first issue and did not know what to do with it.  Slowly, I learned how to cook, all thanks to my grandparents.  Now whenever I make my meatloaf or even boil rice (there is another fun memory with my dad’s parents there), I smile and think of them. 

 Then there was today.  I was boiling egg noodles and I thought of my Grandpa Peacock.  No, egg noodles are not what he was known for.   He was known for tacos, chicken and dumplings, and homemade biscuits that would melt in your mouth.  BUT, when I cook egg noodles, I always think of him.  WHY?  One of the last conversations that I had with my Grandpa Peacock was about homemade chicken noodle soup.  He always told me that he wished he could have tasted my soup, he was so proud of me and the way that I had learned to cook.  He was proud of the wife and mother I had become.   In short, he was proud of me for being me.  Today as I sat boiling my egg noodles to feed my family, I sniffled some and really missed my Grandpa.

Food and memories, I love them both!