Wednesday, February 5, 2014

A little memory from my grandmother's kitchen....

 
This morning I was standing at my stove, making a fried egg sandwich, and all of the sudden I was totally overwhelmed with the presence of my grandmother.  Odd, I know, but this morning I was taken back to her little farm kitchen, where she taught me how to make the first dish I ever learned to cook...a fried egg sandwich.
 
I was probably about 8 or 9, but all of the sudden I remember it like it was yesterday.  I can clearly see her stove in my mind.  I am pretty sure it was faded yello,w, but I could be wrong about that.  It sat on the wall, by the fridge, and on that stove sat a skillet.  It wasn't just any skillet though, it was a cast iron skillet.  I kid you not, that skillet had about an inch of bacon grease in it, that I am pretty sure was never, ever cleaned out.  *lol* Don't judge because if you ask your momma, I guarantee she will say your grandma had one too. 
 
Here I was, on a stool, standing by her in the kitchen.  I listened to her tell me to be careful not to burn myself.  I remember watching the thick, creamy bacon fat melt away into a shimmering pool of flavor delight.  I remember how she taught me to crack the egg and open it, ever so slightly, into the pan.  It instantly began to bubble up and my childlike heart soared with delight.   She then demonstrated how to use the spatula to bath the egg yolk with the grease. Then, the flip!  I remember getting it on the first try and feeling like I could accomplish anything!  If I remember correctly, I went home that Monday and made everyone at my house eggs for supper.  I was so proud.   
 
Here I am now, 36, and I still make fried egg sandwiches the same way she taught me, minus the bacon grease.  Parents, grandparents, get your children in the kitchen with you.  Besides all of the wonderful math, science, and social skills they will learn, they are making memories that they will carry with them for a lifetime.  My grandmother has been gone 10+ years now, but this morning, in my kitchen, she was there with me, For a moment, I cried because she was so close. 
 
Happy Reading, Happy Eating, and Happy Living,
 
~The Kitchen Wife~
 
 
 
 
 

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