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There was no bathroom in the house. We had to go to an out-house and take baths in a big tub outside. We had to pump our own water and rely on kerosene heaters for warmth. I had to go out and collect fresh eggs from the chicken coops in the morning. This is usually when my kids chime in with " and you had to walk two miles to the store and bring back groceries in a wagon" while I tell them stories of my childhood and growing up in my Grandmom's house. We go through this every time I make something she taught me how to cook or something she made for me.

I lived with my Grandmom for a while when I was little and then spent every summer there until she moved into a senior citizen building. It goes without saying that she taught me so much about everything. She taught me to love to live live to give and to love to laugh. She also taught me how to cook. Some of the dishes she made for me have remained my favorites even now. Every time I fix one for my family, I remember Grandmom and the things she and I did together.

When I cook Grandmom's goulash, I can almost see her cutting the potatoes and tomatoes. "Always use fresh, never canned or frozen" she would say. As I fry the chicken thighs in the sausage drippings before cutting the meat off the bone , I can remember her telling me to chop the onion the same size as the corn and to leave the skin on the meat because"that's where the flavor is". I can almost smell it cooking now.

I sometimes make her biscuits. I like to eat them in the morning with her special sausage gravy. While I am rolling the dough, I see her pressing the empty drinking glass into it while she tells me stories of my Dad and Uncle when they were boys. Sometimes as she would tell me stories, my uncle would come into the room and try to dispute the stories. Grandmom would always quiet him with a single look and we'd have a good natured laugh.

We would sometimes make jelly to give to her neighbors. After helping to pick the berries and prepare the jelly, I would walk around the neighborhood and knock on doors to deliver it. Everyone was always so nice. I don't make jelly, but when I make cookies with my grandson, I remember those days and wish people were like that now. I often send cookies to my sister's kids and that makes me think of the nice neighbors accepting the home-made jelly and smiling in gratitude.

Almost everything I cook reminds me of someone who has touched my life. I like the way some people cooked certain things: My aunt's potato salad, Grandpop's fried chicken, Mom's chocolate cookies and many more. I especially like cooking the things Grandmom taught me because it brings back such good memories and gives me the chance to share these memories as well as these recipes with my family.

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