In Memorium

Self,

Today was the memorial service for my grandmother.  It was really nice. 

A day or so ago I was moved to write something to share with everyone at the service which will follow:  (names have been omitted to protect their privacy.)

It's no secret that members in this family can, as they say, "Throw down" in the kitchen.  Nor is that fact a surprise to anyone because we had an excellent teacher in our grandmother.  Some of the best holiday feasts were the result of our grandma, my mom, and aunts lovingly laboring in the kitchen together.

Now it may be a surprise to many of you to learn that mu culinary education with my grandmother began when I was just about 5 years old.  It's the truth - I was gifted.  I started cooking by pretending that four of the tiles on Grandma's kitchen floor were a stove. And I could stir up some pots with a wooden spoon,  I don't remember what I thought I was cooking back then, but Grandma was, of course, supportive.

There were many years between my days of pretend cooking and my time standing in front of a real stove.  Of course that's when the true lessons began.  These were not formal lessons like some Julia Child show, but rather carefree and spontaneous sessions that were usually prompted by my own hunger and the desire to quench it.  It didn't matter what I wanted to prepare, Grandma was always with me, even if I had to get her there by calling her on the telephone.

Along with those first lessons at the stove, came the family's hazing of the new would-be-chefs.  They were referred to as 'ooks, implying that there aren't full-fledged experienced cooks, yet.  It's a tradition started by my grandfather, O-.  My brother, A-, takes pleasure in occasionally reminding me that my time as an 'ook was marked by a crisp, ... well blackened...okay actually charred pot of white rice.  Although started many years ago, just to get a quick and easy laugh now someone might even catch an established chef in the kitchen off guard with the 'ook reference.  Usually, following my grandfather's grin and chuckle at his remark, would be the encouraging words that if we keep it up we could be as great of a cook as our grandmother.

My grandparents were married to each other for over 60 years before he passed in 2011.  Although I miss them both, the world now seems right that they are together again.  And with Grandma's lessons under my belt, and Pop's jovial support at my back, they will always be present in any kitchen I stand in.

To B-, the youngest member of our family, it is unfortunate that you are going to miss your formal training from Grandma and Pop's taste-testings.  However, I can assure you that those of us who have received their training before you will most certainly pass you the infamous wooden spoon and refer to you as the new 'ook in town.  And when you are ready for lessons to be taught the Grandma way, you just have to ask you Auntie M- how to make some cabbage; and then get your Auntie W- to make baked chicken and noodles; and plead with your cousin N- to help you fry some chicken, You might have to drag your cousin A- into a cheesy mashed potato session.  And on a cool fall or winter's day I'll happily let you sweet talk me into showing you hot to make a good pot of Grandma's chicken and dumpling.  And let's not forget that your father, L-, is known for his outstanding breakfast potatoes.  After perfecting all these delicious delicacies and enduring your share of hazing, you'll know Grandma and Pop or with you too, as they have been with us through the years.



Just thought I'd share .

Sincerely,
Ryan



Rest in Pease, Grandma.