As a child growing up, I had the opportunity of having dinner most Sunday's at my grandparent's home. Grandma would arrive home from church, put on her apron and begin making a delicious meal. She always made sure the Sunday supper was special and I enjoyed helping her at every opportunity. I would usually peel the potatoes and snap the green beans, cut some fresh flowers from her garden for the table, set the table and put things in order. We ate out on her enclosed porch, so the windows needed to be opened and the benches dusted off. Her meals always included a little bit of dessert and coffee. She was not a fancy cook, nor did she make gourmet meals ... just good comfort foods that were dished up with love. After her passing, my mother gave me Grandma's cook book from the early 1930's. Pressed inside were little sprigs of flowers and a few recipes cut out of a newspaper.
My own children love to eat at their grandparent's homes too; although they were not afforded the frequent meals that I had growing up. But their fondest memories seem to be the sights, smells, and sounds from their grandparent's homes. This past Easter we bridged the miles by making some favorite recipes from Grandma. It's funny how food connects us and brings back so many childhood memories.
Now it's my turn to start cooking Sunday dinners for my grown children and grandson. I usually ask them to help plan the meal a few days in advance. (They always ask for something from their childhood.) At the end of the evening, it's nice to hear them say "thank you, Mom, for a wonderful day."
