The longest and most enduring relationship in my life has been with food. Long before I understood love or family, before I knew about complex things like trust and compassion, and before I knew much of anything I had a relationship with the joy of food - spicy, sweet, hot, cold, Chinese, Thai, Italian, French, or Mexican. You name it and I've probably eaten it and loved every single bite. Food has been a constant in my life and provides me with some of my most memorable times from my childhood.
Growing up in a small southern town, food was a mainstay of our lives. Whether it was the annual family reunion potluck, a church supper, or a simple weeknight meal, food defined us as family and as southerns. No one ever knocked on our door without being invited in and offered a beverage and "something to eat."
Once when my youngest son was very small he opened our front door to greet a neighbor. On entering, he said to the neighbor, "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, cocktail weenie?" I have no idea why these were the choices but even at a very young age he knew how to provide hospitality and warmth to anyone coming in the door.
Most all southern homes are hospitable and love nothing more than for you to come inside, stay awhile and enjoy a cold glass of sweet tea, or in my home, a cup of coffee. If dinner is being prepared you'll be invited to stay because there's "always plenty." If it's lunch time you might as well give up and share a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich with your host because you aren't leaving until you've eaten something. Southern cooks like to share their bounty, their recipes, and their love of the kitchen.
As any good southerner knows, the kitchen is the most important room in the house but cooking is just one of the many things that happens there. It is also where the family and their friends come together to share stories, apologize for wrongs, confess their sins, do homework, finish the science fair project, crack pecans, taste whatever is always on the back of the stove, and ultimately, share a delicious meal made of goodness and love.
The house I grew up in was approximately nine hundred square feet. With three bedrooms, one bathroom, and six occupants. It was tight quarters! The kitchen was a small galley with a turquoise electric wall oven, a four burner electric stove top, a small refrigerator with an even smaller freezer inside, and a single porcelain sink. There were a few cabinets and drawers that held the dishes, pots and pans, flatware, and all the groceries and supplies to feed a family of six every day.
We didn't eat out unless it was a very special occasion. I am sure my parents didn’t have ‘eating-out’ money in their budget and it just wasn’t as common as it is today. My recollection is that we ate three meals a day, every day in that small house with the small kitchen. At each meal we were gathered around a small rectangular formica topped table with six chairs. There was a 'lazy susan' sitting in the middle of the table that held salt and pepper, napkins, butter, and a wide variety of condiments. We didn't refrigerate the butter or the condiments, in a house with poor air conditioning, and we didn't die.
Oh, how the times have changed! Fast forward to 2018 ...
FOOD. It's probably the worst four letter word on the planet in modern society. When you say it, many quickly become tense, worried, or fearful. Questions arise about gluten, fat, calories, and sugars. Rarely does anyone automatically think about taste, flavor, comfort, warmth, or even their family.
Growing up in the southern U.S. food was a happy part of our lives. At breakfast we talked about what we were having for lunch, at lunch we talked about what we were having at dinner, and during holidays we just talked about food, food, and more food. It was our constant companion in a positive and wholesome way. We didn't worry about food, fret about food, or consider calories ... ever! Ironically, we were thinner and healthier than we are today.
Southern women and men are taught to cook from the time they are able to sit on the counter next to their moms or dads. My children were perched on the counter and given a wooden spoon and a bowl to play with while they watched us whip up a hearty meal for the family. That meal typically involved a salad, meat or fish, a couple of vegetables and starch, bread and butter, and iced tea. We usually ate some sort of dessert whether homemade or store bought.
I don’t recall my childhood home having air conditioning until I was older. The windows in the house were always wide open day and night. If you walked down the street you could smell delicious foods cooking at every home. Their smells wafting through the neighborhood, making your mouth water with anticipation of the evening meal. Each house was cooking up fried pork chops, chicken fried steak, beans and rice, greens, or meatloaf and we couldn't wait to get home each night when we saw our dads pull into the driveways. Dinner was early in most homes, around 5:30pm. After dinner we would sit on the front porch, where it was cooler, and talk. When the mosquitos got bad we would go back inside and watch television and eat dessert.
Today, in spite of the huge number of restaurants and food service deliveries, I think kids still can enjoy learning to cook, especially if parents make it fun - men and women, boys and girls, can equally take their turn at the stove, oven, and barbecue grill. No parent should let their children leave home without some basic skills in the kitchen.
So, here we go into a world of deliciousness, fun, creativity, and joy. Get ready to return to the kitchen with our recipes and enjoy every minute of your time there with family and friends. Make food your friend again.
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