Something that I have had on my mind a lot recently for some reason is my grandmother’s cooking skills. She never had a recipe that I ever saw. She never really used precise measurements of items either. She could put flour, milk and some animal fat (don’t go getting all healthy on me… it was a time and place thing, okay?) in a bowl, mix them all together, measure out the exact right amount of dough in her hand and make the exact same number of biscuits every time. To this day, I have never had a biscuit that compared to hers.
My grandmother made bread or some sort every day. There were always biscuits in her house. She baked an incredible cornbread too. She also fried cornbread on occasion. They looked almost like pancakes and would melt in your mouth just like the butter did when you smeared it on them. The smell of those breads baking or frying would fill her house… and bring me comfort just knowing what was to come.
And it just wasn’t for meal time either.. her biscuits with her fig preserves were probably one of the best desserts I have ever had in my life. oh, so good!
I still to this day, do not understand how but she could take three day old, rock hard biscuits and soured milk and vanilla and create the most wonderful bread pudding ever. I can remember my dad and I fighting over the corner pieces that were a little crunchy on the edges.
I miss so many things about my grandmother. She was a true inspiration to me as you may have read in other posts. And even now.. when I am seeking comfort… the memories of those wonderful breads are all it takes. And let me tell you about her pecan pies……!!!!