Tuesday, January 6, 2015


I rarely wear aprons. I feel like they slow me down. I mean it's not like I'm cooking in a custom Dior gown or anything. It ain't that deep if a little sour cream gets on my sweat pants, you know? However, two different aprons reminded me during the holidays of the women who helped create my love of all things food..both of my grandmothers.
Even then, I had so much talent.
My Nannie and I created my first recipe around age 5 (scrambled egg with a piece of American cheese on top). She was so laid back about letting me crack eggs, or do anything that might drive most people, myself included, crazy with such a small child. She let me try crazy things and we always laughed in the kitchen. She also let me do fun crafts all the time, and this apron is one of them. It's at least 20 years old, maybe older. And when I went to her house on Christmas Eve, I realized it's still hanging in her kitchen. The longer I thought about it I realized..it's always been there. I was the first to come through her kitchen, but 5 other little girls have probably worn that apron at one time or another since then. Even now when Nannie can't do quite as much as she used to, I know Preslee (the youngest of the granddaughters) is still rocking that ice cream cone apron often.
When I say rock, I mean it. She is 110% fierce, this one.

I lived with my other grandmother from age 4 to 13, and I do again now. She's taught me how to make so many things I can't even begin to keep track. She gives me free reign over her kitchen all the time, which is basically like being in a Chopped kitchen. So many fun ingredients. We love to collect all kinds of different international ingredients, I'm sure we have ten kinds of vinegar in the pantry right now, and there are spices in at least four different cabinet/drawers. It's a foodie heaven. For my birthday she gave me a Wonder Woman apron and we had such a good laugh about it..for obvious reasons.
I didn't know an apron could feel a little skanky.
I hope that this blog in some (tiny) way continues the incredible tradition they've passed down to me of sharing love through food. I know I sound 99 years old, but the best memories really are made in the kitchen.

Who taught you how to cook? Did you hover around the kitchen as a child, too, or just me?

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