I was supposed to make stuffing for Thanksgiving Dinner and realized part way into preparation my iron skillet was missing. Odd, since I only use it at Thanksgiving. I searched everywhere - even the hall closet, just in case. No luck.
Before I knew it, I was on the kitchen floor...crying.
Not over iron, people. It was merely the last straw, apparently. This isn't the time or place for details on the tears. But I can tell you the moment that brought the smile.
I had already put in my first batch of biscuits and as I watched them closely, knowing they wouldn't be as good as my mom's, I cried even more. When they reached the perfect golden brown, I pulled them out and proceeded to douse one with butter and take a bite over the sink as the butter dripped down my fingers (per tradition).
Oh. My. Goodness.
I did it.
I really did it.
Thirty two years and they FINALLY tasted just like my mom's.
Ok, that brought some tears on this side ..... I know a lot of folks that are going to be happy that you will be carrying on the tradition of making 'em. :)
ReplyDeleteAh my dear one...though I didn't get to taste the delectable outcome, I remember my sister's first LA Tgiving, trying to make her usual delicious pumpkin pie. Not able to find a key ingredient: LARD - in LA "normal" grocery stores, having realized after waiting in lines forever that she had purchased the wrong pumpkin, etc, she had a break down of major proportions as well. MAJOR TEARS. Tgiving - a moment of tears AND triumph. I suggest tequila is added, next time! Love you.
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