Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Granny's Holiday Table
A Mississippi Christmas is vastly different from a Minnesota Christmas.
A few notable differences:
1. Snow - I don't know what the hell is so great about a white Christmas. When it snows it means I have to wear ugly boots and have a whole lot of mopping of floors staring me in the face.
2. Gifts - in the Northland the presents are practical useful gifts, like a window ice scraper (I swear it was a gift in my home) - I miss the frivolous gifts from Southerners, like the year I was so poor I could only afford grits for every meal and my daddy gifted me with an entire set of Louis Vuitton luggage. Mind you, this was not just any Louis Vuitton luggage it was a special regift from one of his numerous illicit gal-pals who decided that Daddy should really buy her the classier Gucci set.
3. Family - while the lack of emotion displayed by my Minnesota family helps to keep the day relatively stress free, I still long for some drama to take place. I guess nothing will beat the year that my daddy decided that his children should build a bonfire to light the way for Santa. The fire was a slow starter so Daddy commanded that we add Diesel to the wood pile. That sapsucker still wouldn't burn so Daddy decided to take matters into his own hands and add some petrol to get things moving. Daddy has never been known for his sense of distance or balance a combination that resulted in a whole lot of charred hair and clothing along with a diatribe that Santa surely heard all the way in the North Pole.
4. The Most Important Difference - Food!!! Southerners began talking about Christmas Dinner as soon as we have polished off the potato salad and deviled eggs at the Annual Labor Day Church Picnic and Gospel Sing-along. Being a hospitable people we keep in mind the discerning palates of our guests and loved ones. For example: Being naturally thin, Aunt La-La loves her turnip greens cooked in Fatback but her boy Webber has the unfortunate affliction of weight so he will need his turnips cooked in low-fat/low-sodium (he has high pressure) chicken broth.
This Christmas got me to missing my Granny and her wonderful holiday table. She was renown for her expertise in the kitchen. Every holiday would be filled with friends and relatives coming and going through her tiny house in Mississippi. Everyone left feeling like a big fat tick on a hound dog's ear from all the wonderful food she served.
My brother Michael and I would stare in wonder at the mess of pies, cakes, hams, birds, crown roasts (with little chef hats on the bones)and, Lordy, the casseroles. Granny could take any vegetable combine it with Ritz crackers, Winn Dixie store brand cheese and create a gastric masterpiece. We knew what dishes would taste best by the degree of our reflection in each. The shiniest food was the tasty because they had been heaped full of Granny's double top secret ingredient - BACON GREASE. Granny would save grease all year long in a Ball-Mason jar on the top of her gas stove. Few things could get her hopping like a mad hornet, one was throwing away bacon drippings. (Once she flew across to kitchen to retrieve grease filled paper towels I had thrown in the trash pail. She then gently wrung the drippings out of the towels into the Mason jar.)
I believe that the shine also reflected Granny's deep love and faith in all of mankind. She had the amazing capability to truly love her neighbor. Her table was open to all who cared to feast. Regardless of affliction or social standing, she welcomed all on equal ground. If the leaders of the world would have set down for a heaping of fried chicken, gumbo, okra and tomato and zucchini casserole, there would now be peace among the nations. In her little kitchen filled with good smells, greasy spoons and cast iron, I witnessed what is truly selfless and good in this world.
Peace and Greens
Debalicious
A few notable differences:
1. Snow - I don't know what the hell is so great about a white Christmas. When it snows it means I have to wear ugly boots and have a whole lot of mopping of floors staring me in the face.
2. Gifts - in the Northland the presents are practical useful gifts, like a window ice scraper (I swear it was a gift in my home) - I miss the frivolous gifts from Southerners, like the year I was so poor I could only afford grits for every meal and my daddy gifted me with an entire set of Louis Vuitton luggage. Mind you, this was not just any Louis Vuitton luggage it was a special regift from one of his numerous illicit gal-pals who decided that Daddy should really buy her the classier Gucci set.
3. Family - while the lack of emotion displayed by my Minnesota family helps to keep the day relatively stress free, I still long for some drama to take place. I guess nothing will beat the year that my daddy decided that his children should build a bonfire to light the way for Santa. The fire was a slow starter so Daddy commanded that we add Diesel to the wood pile. That sapsucker still wouldn't burn so Daddy decided to take matters into his own hands and add some petrol to get things moving. Daddy has never been known for his sense of distance or balance a combination that resulted in a whole lot of charred hair and clothing along with a diatribe that Santa surely heard all the way in the North Pole.
4. The Most Important Difference - Food!!! Southerners began talking about Christmas Dinner as soon as we have polished off the potato salad and deviled eggs at the Annual Labor Day Church Picnic and Gospel Sing-along. Being a hospitable people we keep in mind the discerning palates of our guests and loved ones. For example: Being naturally thin, Aunt La-La loves her turnip greens cooked in Fatback but her boy Webber has the unfortunate affliction of weight so he will need his turnips cooked in low-fat/low-sodium (he has high pressure) chicken broth.
This Christmas got me to missing my Granny and her wonderful holiday table. She was renown for her expertise in the kitchen. Every holiday would be filled with friends and relatives coming and going through her tiny house in Mississippi. Everyone left feeling like a big fat tick on a hound dog's ear from all the wonderful food she served.
My brother Michael and I would stare in wonder at the mess of pies, cakes, hams, birds, crown roasts (with little chef hats on the bones)and, Lordy, the casseroles. Granny could take any vegetable combine it with Ritz crackers, Winn Dixie store brand cheese and create a gastric masterpiece. We knew what dishes would taste best by the degree of our reflection in each. The shiniest food was the tasty because they had been heaped full of Granny's double top secret ingredient - BACON GREASE. Granny would save grease all year long in a Ball-Mason jar on the top of her gas stove. Few things could get her hopping like a mad hornet, one was throwing away bacon drippings. (Once she flew across to kitchen to retrieve grease filled paper towels I had thrown in the trash pail. She then gently wrung the drippings out of the towels into the Mason jar.)
I believe that the shine also reflected Granny's deep love and faith in all of mankind. She had the amazing capability to truly love her neighbor. Her table was open to all who cared to feast. Regardless of affliction or social standing, she welcomed all on equal ground. If the leaders of the world would have set down for a heaping of fried chicken, gumbo, okra and tomato and zucchini casserole, there would now be peace among the nations. In her little kitchen filled with good smells, greasy spoons and cast iron, I witnessed what is truly selfless and good in this world.
Peace and Greens
Debalicious
