Every year I add a new dish to cook that my Grandmother use to make for Thanksgiving. This year it’s dressing.
Once I got the foundation of how it’s made, intimidation left my mind.
I can remember the smell of Thanksgiving from my childhood. I have vivid memories of her cooking in the kitchen.
Now that she’s no longer here, I flashback to lessons she taught me cooking.
One of those lessons were, “No running in her kitchen.” I paid dearly when I was too slow, following my cousins to the basement. She warned us not to.
This last time I knew I was gonna make it past her because we had done it several times prior. She had enough when I tried to wisp by her. POP! She smacked me in the head with a metal spoon.
My cousins laughed from the basement door. Right then is where I learned lesson number 2, “Take heed to my word. You disobey, discipline will be swift.”
The moral of the story, there isn’t one. I’m just thinking of my Grandma while cooking.