Hollison Journey

“The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination.” – Don Williams Jr

Tales from the Kitchen

on January 18, 2009

Random Writing Prompt:

“Where did they keep the spice rack?  Write about a person who has (or had) a marvelous kitchen.”

It wasn’t fancy or sleek or modern. It didn’t have shiny Kenmore appliances or stainless steel counters. It was small, with linoleum floors, melamine countertops and yellow paint.

Despite its aesthetic flaws, my grandmother’s kitchen was where magic happened. My grandmother was always in the kitchen. She was the queen of desserts of my family and every holiday we looked forward to forty niners, date cookies, fruit cake cookies and multiple pies. Every summer, my cousins, sister and I would make snickerdoodles in her kitchen, mainly because we liked to roll the dough in the cinnamon and sugar. She always had the latest kitchen appliance or gadget, from bread machines to stand mixers to the weird bread knife. When diabetes began to prohibit her mobility and her caregivers had to cook, she still sat nearby and instructed. She had a box of recipes, but I think most things she knew in her head. Several years ago, my mom got back in touch with a childhood friend and invite her to dinner at our house. Mom and Susie were discussing the old days and Susie remarked that they always played at my mom’s house because while her mom would never allow them in the kitchen, my grandmother was fine with them making cookies and throwing flour and making a genuine mess.

I’ll  never make cookies in that kitchen again. But I’d like to think my grandmother will always be around whenever I roll cold dough in cinnamon and sugar.


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