When I was young and even a teen-ager, often we would “pop” in on relatives and vice versa to our house. Visiting relatives was a large part of our recreation in those days. When this happened and the timing was right for a mealtime, soon, within an hr. the most sumptuous meal would be set on the table . . . no matter how many one had to serve . . . and with a Blessing of Thanksgiving said, a wonderful time of fellowship and love would begin.
Of course, everything was made from scratch unless it was already cooked for the next meal. Even the lard made in grandma’s big black iron pot in the back yard they used to fry those delicious potatoes, okra, or other vegetables grown from her garden and picked just that day. Sometimes, they served fried corn bread ~ fried fruit pies with homemade crusts and fruits picked from their own trees.
A beautiful cake or pie was almost always already baked and waiting for someone to enjoy. Sometimes on special occasions, we would have homemade ice cream . . . made from the freezer packed with ice from a block of ice that had been delivered by the Ice Man who came by regularly. The ice was kept in a window box installed in a window to keep. A young child was usually picked to sit on the freezer while a grown up turned the crank to make it freeze and harden. It had fresh cream straight from the cows that had been milked that morning.
Most raised their own cows, hogs, chickens to supply their meat supply, milk, eggs, butter, and cheese. The fried chicken served mainly at Sunday dinners were something to be remembered . . . I loved the “pully” bone . . . which most people give you a very blank look if you asked for one of those now!!! I used to paint the pully bone itself gold and decorate gift pkgs. with them. Supposedly you could pull it apart and the one that got the long bone would have good luck. Fats, cholesterol, etc. were never a topic of conversation then.
I possess a wonderful reminder of that era in the form of a large crock mixing bowl with scratches, a few cracks, but holds many memories. It belonged to my mother in law who died when she was 90 abt. 25 yrs. ago. I still use it when I cook for the holidays or need something that size and always shed a tear or 2 when I do. She mixed many, many casseroles, cakes and pies in that bowl for shut-ins or anyone that might need it.
I cherish all those memories ~ the crock mixing bowl, my mother’s cookie jar, and know it will never be like that again. I thank God for allowing me to live in that time and know the “Old Time Food” and the good old times will never be same.
Makes me want to “pop” by your home to visit you. I love you. Thanks, Nana.
Love your granddaughter,