tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100321815930985009.post1949949042148387304..comments2024-01-25T08:10:28.426-08:00Comments on The Good News Journal: The Best Meal I Ever AteA Modest Scriblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07698092153994590787noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100321815930985009.post-31947039482397236192013-03-31T16:31:56.376-07:002013-03-31T16:31:56.376-07:00There are times when I think I might be seeing a l... There are times when I think I might be seeing a little embellishment going on here but this time, I know it's all the real thing. I had that meal on my Grandparent's farm! I think that's why I like coming here so much because your memory is so much better than mine, and I'm taken back to times that had completely left me, or so I thought. Now my Grandparent's farm wasn't in Oklahoma, it was in El Cajon, east of San Diego, Ca. <br /> Your Aunt Avy sounds very much like my Great Grandma Rogers! During the depression my father's family all relocated from Colorado and Pennsylvania to a couple hundred acre working farm in what is now El Cajon. Sadly Grandma Rogers died before I reached my teens but I do remember many Sunday dinners at Grandma Rogers table. Bill of fare sounds just like your Oakie menu with the exception of the okra (yuck). I remember desert was usually a Boysenberry pie with a thick sugared crust (because that was my favorite and I was Grandma's favorite) and vanilla ice cream we made in the back yard. When you mention how good those meals were, I'm reminded of all the 5 star restaurants I've eaten in. Paul Prudhomme made dinner for us right in his New Orleans kitchen, for cryin out loud, and still, I can't remember any meals coming close to those we ate outside at my Grandparent's with the flys down in El Cajon! When all was done we were served a thick wedge of watermelon during which my cousins and I, forgetting our manners, would be spitting watermelon seeds at each other(remember when watermelons had seeds?). <br /> My mother, wanting to cook the food my father would like, asked Grandma Rogers to show her how to make a few of her specialties. My Mom tells me the first thing she told her was to start with the right grease. My Mom was a bit shocked when Grandma opened a cupboard whose contents where several mason jars marked with different types of fat renderings used to start the many wonderful recipes, Fried Chicken, biscuits and pie crusts, she was a master. <br /> Grandma Rogers died, then Grandma and now my Mother's hands are bent with painful arthritis as she nears the end of her time here. Sadly all those wonderful skills were not passed down as my Sisters both have very busy schedules with their careers and kids. The men in our family were, as chauvinistic tradition would have it, instructed to stay out of the kitchen. Those afternoons with those great meals are now only a fading memory. Once again, thank you my Friend, for coming here I'm reminded of those great times. I wish my kids could have experienced those great times so they wouldn't look at me so sceptically telling me, "nothing could be that good".Kenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07820329703683247263noreply@blogger.com