Just a pinch

As I was looking for a particular recipe the other evening, I caught myself reading handwritten instructions in my extensive collection of books and boxes of good old reliable recipes.

No secret here, I enjoy cooking nearly as much as eating.

I think it started with my Grandma Archer. She was my ‘country’ grandma — tall, strong and loving — her day consisted of choring, sewing, crossword puzzles, drinking coffee, listening to the CB radio and constantly cooking and baking for any number of people that would show up for meals, including the farmhands that seemed to be around as much as the rest of the relatives. And when the men didn’t stop by the house for lunch, she’d pack it up and drive her Lincoln Continental out to the fields to deliver it.

She never measured a thing when she cooked and I really don’t remember ever seeing a single recipe card. Grandma just knew what to add and how much of it she needed to make the most delicious dishes. And all that cast iron cookware ... she did it right. She always found a way to include the grandkids anytime they wanted to help. God love her!

That is actually a complete 180 from my other grandma. Grandma Grace was my ‘town’ grandma — a tiny little thing that never raised her voice and had plenty of love to go around. She played the organ at the First Christian Church every Sunday for decades, gave piano lessons for even longer in her home, listened to KMA radio every morning while having coffee at the kitchen table, enjoyed her ‘stories’ on TV, wore a dress every day of her life and left most of the cooking to my grandpa. Not to say Grandma Grace couldn’t cook. Her specialty was noodles. No one will ever make noodles like she did. But in her 93 years of life, I assure you she measured out the ingredients EVERY ... SINGLE ... TIME she made noodles. No recipe card, but most definitely measuring cups and spoons! God love her, too!

On a side note — We referred to my Grandma Archer by her sir name, and my Grandma Grace by her given name.

I’ll never forget, maybe 12 or so years ago, when Grandma Grace joined my mom for a weekend at my house. I was fixing lunch, which happened to include homemade noodles. BIG mistake to fix grandma’s specialty with grandma present, especially when my cooking style parallels that of Grandma Archer’s — no measuring. Bless her heart, I think I pushed every button she had by dumping flour, salt and baking powder into the bowl directly from the containers. Every time I turned around, there she was, all 4-foot-8 of her, right at my side offering me a measuring cup and knife to get the exact amount of flour. I thought I was going to have to tie that little lady down to a chair!

So anyway ...

As I was going through my trove of recipes, I had to laugh at a few of them.

As a girl I loved green bean casserole (still do). Now, most of us have got that one down pat — minimal ingredients, a casserole dish and an oven. Pretty simple. But I actually have a hand-written card with the instructions my aunt had written for me. I must have been kind of flighty if she thought I couldn’t remember that one.

There were also recipes for tuna noodle casserole, country gravy and egg salad sandwiches ... and in my own script! Granted, they were written nearly 40 years ago when I was a novice at meal preparation, but it was obvious even I didn’t have much faith in my own potential as a cook ... back then.

Contact Dana King at dking@shawmedia.com