Sunday, May 28, 2017
Old Fashioned Kitchen Reminds Me Of Grandma
My grandmother's kitchen was so small. She had to use the enamel topped kitchen table as her only countertop for food prep. The stove sat against the far wall and butted up against the sink. Then there was the fridge. Not big like the ones we have now--small with a tiny lunch box sized freezer. But the food that came out of that kitchen was divine.
She made a soup out of garden fresh green beans that was delicious on so many levels. I have never been able to duplicate it, but I remember it to this day---50 years since I last had a bowl (or two).
Her garden is the standard I work toward each year.
Here was a woman who was always "without". Not enough money, love or caring. But she kept going. Kept smiling. Kept being kind and loving. And. Big thing--she did the things that mattered to her--always. Starched clean apron every single day. Lovely permed hair. Roses in every garden she created. Fruit trees--always. Vegetable garden, always. And she canned and pickled everything. there was no waste. At season's end everything got ground up in a chow chow pickle kind of thing. Carrots, onions, turnips, cauliflower. I loved that stuff. I think of her while I slice yellow and green zucchini, peppers, onions and make pickles all summer long.
She never grew rhubarb. But I think she would be thinking of so many ways to cook it, bake it and pickle it at this time of year. G and I gathered a large, heavy armful this afternoon at my friend's house. Pounds and pounds of it. Big red stalks. My friend has the BEST dirt!!!. Now I need to go looking for new and interesting ways to use it all up. Any ideas? Mainers like rhubarb sauce the best. Just cooked down with some sugar and piled on a hot fresh baked biscuit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I am so jealous of that rhubarb. You've put me in the mood to try to grow it once again. It never grown for me, but you know what they say about hope.
Post a Comment