The first thing I thought about when I saw this daily post was pies and then presents.

Growing up, we didn’t eat many pies that weren’t bought from the store. They were good, but nothing compared to the pies that were brought to Second Sunday Dinners. (I miss those.) We made box cakes, brownies, and when Thanksgiving time came around we would of course make Pumpkin and Pecan, but all was bought at the store, including the crust.

Mom and Dad were and still are very busy so mealtime, while spent at the dinner table and not in front of the TV most nights, was cooked more and more by me as I got older. I hated other chores but dinner was something I enjoyed making even if it was following the directions on the back of a box. I do have a rebel streak in me though that likes to add my own twist on things. I can’t just make Hamburger Helper. There has to be some way to make it better.

I figured out when I was a teenager that we ate what Mama liked. She was shopper and head cook so only what she liked got made unless I made it. I couldn’t believe she didn’t like pancakes. I had to convince myself that I liked them when I found out since my vote, like most typical kids, leans towards what their parents or grandparents liked and didn’t. My Grandfather didn’t like Vince Gill. I lived with that denial for a few years.

Mom also didn’t like meringue pies. I didn’t much care for whip topping so I always thought meringue was just another sort and always stuck with apple pie ala mode, and pecan pie sans whipped topping.

As the years went by and T.V. improved (Yes, I was one of those who got to watch us go from watching tv in a big heavy wooden black and white box to the flat-screen on the wall generation.), Food Network channel was memorized and I watched the original Iron Chef when I could catch it between homework. Triple D was a big favorite when it finally aired and I fell in love with the humorous Michael Simon and loved the innovative cooking that Top Chef inspired.

I tried to learn as much as I could by watching these shows and while I loved to cook, sadly no, I didn’t become a world renown chef or even as interesting as Instagrammer @pierrickboyer is. His photos are so scrumptious and I bet he could tell some amazing adventures.

I have learned how to make my own pie crust and even have my own recipe tweaked to the way I like crust. It works great and I get compliments on it. I love making pies for people for their birthday. Most of everyone has a favorite and when I can I make one. It’s just so much better than store bought. I love make meringue and piling it on to watch it brown and make the beautiful mountains and ridges all over. I love baking anything but pies are my favorite.

I’m the same way with Christmas and other days requiring presents.

Whenever I can, I like to really think about that person and what they like and what I can make that they will enjoy or love having. Sometimes it doesn’t always pan out but I figure a necklace I made is better than a snuggie collecting dust and who knows they may finally get a outfit they wear with it.

In a material world, it’s so easy to just go buy things already made. You can find anything pre fabbed or pre cooked. I love handmade. It just makes things that much more meaningful.

Thank you for reading,

Kalamity

Daily Prompt: Ingredients

What’s the one item in your kitchen you can’t possibly cook without? A spice, your grandma’s measuring cup, instant ramen — what’s your magic ingredient, and why?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us KITCHEN.

A little dash of this and a tablespoon of that and ta-da! Something tasty is waiting to be eaten.

My Great Grandparents made big pots of potato soup, and goulash. It was always wonderful. The potatoes were cut to the perfect size and seasoned just right. Same with the goulash, everything tasted wonderful and like Christmas morning. They didn’t care what you added to it either. It probably didn’t need it but crackers or ketchup were always handy adding another layer of flavor. They also made pecan pies. They made their own crust and the filling was never runny. Everything they made tasted perfect, even scrambled eggs!

I wish I could cook like that. I think on most days that I am a good cook. Hickory’s plate is usually what he calls a happy plate when he is done eating. A happy plate is a clean plate. I know I have really done good when he goes back for seconds.

My Great Grandparents seemed to have one common thing when they were cooking. They cooked with LOVE. The big pots of soup were made with consideration that visitors would be by and they would be bringing their company and appetite. Together they would cook. Great Granddad cutting the potatoes and Great Grandma stirring the pot. Great Grandma would have her soaps on in the living room and Great Grandpa would be whistling a tune. Somebody may be sitting in the dining room and petting one of Great Grandma’s cats that had wandered in from the sunroom in the back. Plants hanging in the bay window. One of the Grandkids would be playing in the front yard. Conversation was always entertaining and there was never a lull in it. It was all filled with LOVE. The cooking, the baking, the conversations, and the rooms were all filled with LOVE.

My Great Grandparents passed away a few years ago, so all that remains are the fond memories I have. The house had become a hollow cave. The front yard looks like something Boo Radley would claim. It hurts to look upon it.

When I married, my husband, I gained a new Grandmother-In-Law. She is a sweet lady who likes to make things from scratch just like my Great Grandparents and reminds me of them. When we first got married, I asked her to teach me to make Hickory’s favorite pie, coconut cream. The experience took me back. I learned how to make my own crust and with it, I could feel my Great Grandparents smiling down at me to be learning something that they loved to make also.

My one ingredient that I love to make anything with is LOVE. It’s the most powerful ingredient. It doesn’t matter how simple or complex the dish is, it is always made with love. I think of my Great Grandparents and I can feel them approving of my main ingredient. Hickory will help me sometimes and he will whistle for a couple of seconds and I can’t help but smile thinking that my Great Granddad is whistling with him.

~Kalamity