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05/09/2020
A tribute to my sweet mother...
Mama’s been gone for many years, but she still “visits” me frequently in flashbacks of memories, as she did moments ago: I was in my kitchen making a chicken & dumplings casserole for supper, gathering ingredients from the pantry. And suddenly, I was with her once again. I was transported back in time to her little red & white kitchen in Powdersville, SC, and she was teaching me to cook. She was wearing her yellow & white apron, and in her sweet Southern voice telling me, “Now, Ramona, pay attention. Always gather all your ingredients for your recipe first—lay them out in order with your tools, then you can start measurin’ and mixin’.” To this day, I still follow her instructions.
Because of her, I enjoy a genuine love affair with cooking and baking. She expressed her love and nurturing spirit in countless ways to our family, but what I remember most fondly about her was the time and attention she devoted in her kitchen cooking for us: teaching me how to bake cornbread in a cast iron skillet (I burned my hand badly the first time), cathead biscuits (mine were like hockey pucks-thought I’d never succeed in making soft fluffy biscuits instead of lethal weapons), cakes (my first strawberry cake was an ugly, lopsided leaden Crisco disaster, but my sweet daddy ate it anyway & praised every bite). Mama took time to show me how to “properly” handwash and dry dishes—in the right order (“glassware first, greasy pans last”)—so they were squeaky clean. I long to once again be at her elbow, her on the left washing, me to her right drying, talking, laughing, singing, or gazing quietly out the kitchen window at our little piece of country heaven as we worked.
So, I had to take a moment in my own kitchen, as I’ve done hundreds of times, and shed big fat tears for my beautiful mother. I’m so thankful for everything she taught me...and that she loved me enough to TEACH. Her lessons and our memories are all I have left of her, so I cherish that more than most. Teaching our daughters the art and joy of Southern cooking is one of the most priceless time-honored traditions I can pass on to them.
Thanks, Mama, I’m still paying attention.
Ramona Rose
