Wednesday, July 14, 2010
She was a mother-hen in every sense of the word, and was incredibly proud of her children and grandchildren. She never missed an opportunity to show her pride in her family, and sing our praises. Grandma was old-school, always striving to be proper, she would be horrified if anyone left her home hungry. She made the best Thanksgiving stuffing in the world. She taught me to make bread, and not to cross my legs in church. She always had ice cream, and Hershey's kisses with almonds.
Because of her mark on my food memory, I will continue to think of her when I enter the kitchen to make her recipes. When she first went into the nursing home, I inherited some of her cookware. A dozen plain loaf pans - nothing fancy but seasoned with years of Easter fular (Portuguese meat bread), muffin tins - from the summer she went berry picking and we ate our weight in blueberry muffins, and the giant lidded pot that was used to make the double-recipe of Thanksgiving stuffing, because I loved it so much.