In the Kitchen

I have often said, “I am better in the kitchen……” when I find myself lacking in the mechanical skills necessary to know how my car's engine works or how to keep the lawn mower running when it appears to be hell bent on destroying my lawn management day! But it’s true, I am more secure and happy in my kitchen. I am surrounded by culinary items that came to me from both of my grandmothers, who certainly knew their way around the floor bin and back.

For many years I used the measuring spoons that belonged to my Grandma Goldie. I loved them but it seems they moved out of my kitchen at the same time as a former house mate. I grieved over those lost spoons until my son replaced them with a fine shiny set which now occupy a sweet place in my heart.

Of the graduated painted ceramic mixing bowls that I inherited from Grandma Goldie, I have only the large yellow one left. The medium green one broke so many years ago that I can’t remember how. And the small red one dropped onto the ceramic tile floor of my new kitchen shortly after I moved into my new farmhouse. I grieved it’s loss and vowed to rebuild my set. My sister says that they can be found at garage sales and flea markets, neither of which I gravitate to easily, but I remain hopeful.

I have dishes from my Grandma Hazel that I treasure. I have a deviled egg plate that makes appearances on special occasions. I have a pink glass bubbly bowl that reminds me of her; she liked colored glass, just as I do. I have small glass custard bowls that I use for melted butter when my son and I treat ourselves to crab legs. And I have stemmed sherbet glasses that I fill with cocktail sauce for steamed shrimp. Pretty fancy for a small town farm girl!

I have dishcloths that are made from flour sacks that my grandmothers purchased. Baking flour was sold in cloth sacks and they would pick the pattern that caught their fancy and collect enough to sew up what needed to be made. Even though I still use them, gently, I love knowing their history.

I have one aluminum lid that has holes punched on one side. It is used to drain off the cooking liquid from vegetables and pasta or the grease from hamburger; it has a thousand uses. I do not use the aluminum pots and pans that I inherited from Grandma Goldie. I cannot get past the link of aluminum to Alzheimer’s, however I must admit that all of the women in my family had remarkable memories and lived their entire lives in their own homes taking care of themselves till their time to rest in Heaven. And they cooked each meal with these pots every day of their lives. But I can not and I will not give up my dull old aluminum lid with its little wooden knob, still almost painted black. I don’t need it to help me visualize the amazing women of my family ~ they are always with me in the kitchen. I just love it!

* annette