When a grandmother cooks and bakes, she does it with love. It's like she has a pastry injector filled with magic that she uses to fill those cakes and pies right up so they taste as wonderful as you know you will always remember. That taste that makes you remember chasing butterflies in Nana's backyard in the midst of summer, that reminds you of Thanksgiving back home surrounded by all your family, that makes you reminisce about spring time in Grandpa's garden enraptured by the scents of young tomatoes growing on the vine. When I taste one of my grandma's famous cookies, I'm suddenly transported back in time to days of carefree childhood, sitting around the kitchen table in North Carolina with my sister and cousins joking and laughing and passing the funnies around from the Sunday paper. These are feelings that I just don't get when I bite into one of my own creations.
Sure, I like what I make, otherwise I wouldn't be writing a food blog. But, I can only hope that my cooking will one day transport Lily and my possible future children/grandchildren to a place of love and warmth and happy tummies. My husband already tells me my cooking is like no other, my special "Mama" cooking he calls it. Clean plates and satisfied smiles let me know when I've done good in the kitchen.
|Lily's first chocolate chip cookie, taken a few weeks ago|
But, nothing will ever come close to the enchanting sense of hominess that my Grannie Annie's cooking brings. I hope that my mom's and mom-in-law's cooking will feel the same for Lily one day, too. I'm sure it will, it already does for me.
|Me and my grandma, picture by Kristen Thorne|