Get to Know: Ellen

My great-grandmother MeMaw passed away this year, one week shy of her 96th birthday. The loss of her presence here on this earth is felt deeply, but her funeral service was a testament to her life in general — more celebration than sadness. Reflection on my time with her (spent largely in her kitchen or at her table) has awakened me to how much I take for granted. So many aspects of my family life I’ve considered normal are actually unusual privileges. In my life, I’ve known two great-grandmothers, two grandmothers, and a spectacular mother, all of whom are — or were — strong female role models and seasoned cooks. These women are not the type who pull out the Joy of Cooking when you ask how to cook a roast. They just know.

Prepping a waldorf salad with my grandmother, Nana.

In addition to the long line of female cooks, the men in my life are all hunter-gatherer types. Their love for the outdoors and respect for wildlife has taught me a greater appreciation for the food I eat. My grandfather, much like his mother, is a master vegetable gardener who will drive out of his way to find the best local peas or peaches. And once he’s found them, he’ll buy a bushel to share with everyone he knows. In many ways, society’s return to local, organic, wild-caught, and free-range is just a nod to what my family (and many other families) have been doing all along. I’m so lucky to always have a freezer full of Dad’s just-caught red snapper or trout and squash my grandparents grew themselves.

Trout fishing in North Carolina with Dad.

At her funeral service, the preacher began by reminding us that my MeMaw was born in 1920. He encouraged us to stop and ponder how many advancements she had lived through, how many trends she had seen come and go. As he listed advancements like the radio, the tv, the refrigerator, air conditioning, and more, I was thinking of how greatly she loved to cook for her family. And you know, the more I’ve thought of it, the more I’ve realized that cooking for those you love is a constant. Sure, your gadgets may change and food storage may advance, but providing a warm plate of food for your family and friends has always been, and will always be, fulfilling. A warm apple pie in the fall is still a comfort just as it was last fall, or ten falls ago. And if the apple pie is your mother’s recipe, it’s all the more comforting, isn’t it?

I think we all know on some deeper level that food is nostalgia. Meals are memories. We each owe our fond memories of dishes past to family and friends that cooked them for us. Legacies built in the kitchen are not quickly forgotten. The best way I know to honor the matriarchs in my life is to model their behavior. I want to be remembered as a force in the kitchen, one who knew recipes without written account. So I won’t wait for the next soup recipe on Pinterest to appear, and neither should you. Let’s get out our stock pots, think creatively, and use what we have. I want to appreciate the food on my table and bring joy back into the kitchen by providing for those I love.