Tuesday, October 07, 2014

YUMMY - MEMORY PROJECT DAY 8

(adjective)
delicious

My grandpap had an impressive city garden.  The yards on Eureka Street, where we lived across from my grandparents, were not very big; but he somehow managed to stake claim to a portion of his for his hobby.  My grandmother dedicated the grassy area of the yard, which my gandpap kept trimmed with a hand mower, to the hanging out of laundry.  


In his garden, Grandpap grew flowers like daffodils, tulips, and snapdragons.  And in the spring, he would allow me to take some to my teachers.  

In the summer, Grandpap grew tomatoes--big, juicy tomatoes.  In the summer, I ate a lot of those big, juicy tomatoes.  They were yummy!  There is nothing like a tomato fresh off of the vine.  I loved those tomatoes so much, that I would even eat the ends that my grandmother cut off to discard--core and all.

Sometimes my grandmother would make us tomato sandwiches; but mostly she would just slice them, adding a sprinkle of salt and pepper.

When we did not have my grandpap's tomatoes to eat, we would have to buy some from "the huckster."  The huckster was a man who drove through the city neighborhoods selling produce out of the back of his truck.  Also visiting our neighborhood regularly were an ice cream man, a milk man, and a man with a small carousel on the back of his truck 

Those were the good ol' days.  


I am participating in the Nester's 31 Days.  Check it out!

15 comments:

Lyle said...

My grandma's pies. I have a really early memories of walking out to her house at the end of our lane and finding a pie cooling on her counter. Or, and I liked this almost as much, pigs in a blanket. These treats were Grandma's frugal way of not wasting any pie crust. She took the remnants of crust and spread them with homemade apple butter, then rolled the yummyness up and baked it.

Sonya Tichenor said...

Morton's used to make a frozen sugar and spice doughnut. They were mini doughnuts covered in sugar and cinnamon you would heat in the oven. They would be crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. My city grandma always had these and frozen Morton honey buns when we came to visit. She would put four of the doughnuts in her toaster oven and serve them to me on a plate with chocolate milk. So sad these aren't around anymore because they were YUMMY!

Kimberly Hoyt said...

Homemade peanut butter fudge! Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. My mom was a horrible cook. We laughed when stores started carrying decorative plaques that said, "Dinner is ready when the smoke alarm goes off" because that was literally the truth in our house! Mom didn't have a sense of smell and was easily distracted, so she burned up untold numbers of pans and meals over the years. She didn't enjoy cooking, but she did have a sweet tooth, so she never burned the fudge :)

I tried for years to replicate her fudge, ruining a few pans myself in the process. It either set up too firmly or came out more like peanut butter sauce. Then the world wide web came along, and I searched high and low for peanut butter fudge recipes, only to discover that somewhere along the way, the real recipe had been hijacked by an abomination that includes marshmallow creme (what's up with that stuff, anyway?!). I'd discarded my dream of ever tasting that delectable fudge ever again, when my SIL rode to the rescue! She found a recipe that had the right ingredients (sugar, milk, butter, vanilla and peanut butter) and a lovely photo tutorial for inept fudge makers like myself. The last time I was in the U.S., my SIL and I made it together and IT WAS SO GOOD! It could be the passage of time (mom's been gone over 26 years), but as I savored each creamy bite, it seemed to me I'd finally "done her proud"!

Kolein said...

Huckster. I had to look that up. It sounded sort of shifty. :D

Those certainly were the good ole days. Today when the the ice cream men (yep, two guys in the truck) come down our street the kids run screaming in the house. These guys look like gangstas!!! And the prices! Yikes!

XO

MsHouse121 said...

Oh Lawdy, Lawdy! , I can think of all kinds of things on "Yummy" from my childhood, I could right a book solely on My Childhood yumminess! Lets see where to begin. I will begin with after school snacks. My mom, would always have us all an after school snack ready every afternoon. It was always a surprise and absolutely yummy. I remember they were always so cute and creative. The portions were not very big though because it would ruin our dinners. We all enjoyed and looked forward to see what type of neat treat she would have ready for us. We could honestly see and taste the love that my mom put into each and every creation. During the holidays they were especially made to celebrate the next holiday that was coming up! We would enjoy things like pudding and fruit infused jello parfaits, cookies, candies, homemade milkshakes, brownies and and we loved the cow pies, cupcakes, candy apples, caramel apples, Ice cream sundaes, popcorn balls, homemade buttered cinnamon sugar sticks, frozen juice pops just to name a few. My Mamaw Rhea, would always fix us homemade fried doughnuts with a homemade glaze. Oh those warm glazed doughnuts would just melt in your mouth. She made them out of a biscuit type dough. I could have eaten 10 of them, but she would only let us have two. Boy how I miss those days. We also enjoyed Mamaw's homemade ice cream with her homemade toppings as well. Mom and my Mamaw's kitchens were definitely the heart of their homes! Yummy, Yummy, Yummy!!!!!! I will never forget all they did to make our coming home from a long day of school such a fun and tasty experience, one, me, my sister, brothers and cousins looked forward to each and every school day!

Create in Me said...

I can’t think of the word yummy without thinking of the culinary queen of my childhood: my mom. The Lord took her into his arms in January 2000, but one of the legacies she left behind to her family and all of those who ever knew her is the memory of all things yummy. Thankfully, this gift was passed along to all four of her children. We are all great cooks, and for the most part, we all enjoy this inherited skill.
My mom was legend around our circle of friends. We, as a general rule, were always allowed to go to our friend’s houses to hang out; however, I know that that my parents always preferred that our friends come hang out at our house. And that is exactly what they did. I see now what she was up to. My mother lured my friends to my house with her gastronomic talent. Our home always had an open door policy, and along with that policy was the promise of all things yummy so that no one could resist entering. The kitchen was her, and sometimes our, playground. During my high school years not a week would have gone by without someone coming over to spend the afternoon making our own concoctions. We made hundreds of cookies and cakes; sometimes we liked to mix things up and just to make it fun add color to our cookies and cakes. We ate orange colored cakes, blue cookies, and my personal favorite, green “starlight cake”. We were so easily amused. I know my friends will always hold tight to the memories of eating the best chocolate cake they have ever had, cooked by the goddess herself, with that magic ingredient of love that was so evident to everybody that laid eyes on her beautiful self. You can’t think of yummy without thinking of my mom. You can’t think of my mom without thinking of yummy things.

Jen said...

Hm... one distinct "yummy" memory? So many little snippets are running through my head. Once my dad made us broiled, open-faced PB&J sandwiches. I remember it being the best thing ever! Strangely enough, I only had it that one time... Perhaps that will be lunch tomorrow? :)

Jen said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lisa Biery said...

I'm tired right now and a little grumpy so this word just makes me think of all the yummy comfort food I could eat right now....but I won't do that, instead, I'll write down a memory. Yummy makes me think of Gus's Hot Dogs in Hueytown, Al. My Nanny was a fabulous cook. I could go on and on about all the yummies she had around. But every so often cooking was not on her agenda for the day, but Gus's was. She would take me and my sister and cousins to have hot dogs. I'm not sure what Gus (I'm assuming that was his name) did to those hot dogs, but they smelled so good and tasted even better. I can remember the pictures on the wall, the table we sat at and how excited we always would get when Nanny mentioned Gus's. Now that she's gone, the Gus's tradition isn't. Whenever we go visit, we always go to Gus's. There's been a fresh coat of paint put on the walls, and the furniture has been updated, but the hot dogs are still as good, and the memories sweeter.

Lisa Balough said...


Raw hotdogs. That’s what I called them for years and years until someone gently informed me that they are just cold, not raw when you get them out of the package. I used to spend part of my winter break at my Grandma Potter’s and she always let me eat raw hotdogs, no bun, straight from the fridge, and, best of all, in front of the T.V.! Yummy to an eight year old, I suppose. For some reason, I thought that was the greatest thing ever. She also made hot cocoa from scratch, which intrigued me to no end.

Heather Sparks said...

Mom's homemade bread! Yummy! She baked a double batch-- 8 loaves-- at a time. We would inhale at least one loaf, maybe two as soon as they came out of the oven. She always slathered the tops in butter ( or margarine) and that bread would melt in your mouth. It was wonderful on its own--- but if you drizzled a little honey over it-- oh! My. Heaven in your mouth! :)

Sabrina said...

My childhood favorite yummy was my great aunt's peanut butter cake. She was the only one who could pull off the icing perfectly on a two layer round cake. The only time she made it was for my dad's birthday. My dad is a twin, so when she made the cake, it was immediately cut in half so my uncle could take his part. After dad had his piece, we only had one serving each. I mastered the famous peanut butter cake for the first time only 5 or so years ago. We get to enjoy it all the time now.

Audra Picarello said...

This makes me think of eating Budding beef ball at Christmas time! We always have a family Christmas Eve celebration at our house when we lived in NC. Mom made SO MUCH FOOD, but my favorite was always the beef ball - she would have to watch me around it, because I really would eat it all by myself if I wasn't watched...

Becca Hill said...

From as early as I can remember, my brother would pick me up and set me - (or is it sit?) on the kitchen counter and feed me all kinds of yummy things. He was 8 years older, so my early memories are him about 13. He was my entertainment in a world consumed with a very sick sister who was near death and parents who were consumed with that. I think I was his distraction too!
He fed me cookie dough batter, pre baked brownie mix, raw sugar on my finger, mixed honey & butter by the spoonful.... I'm sure there were many other things we secretly ate together as he became the budding chef he is today. But my favorite of all was the fun we had with powdered sugar and drops of water. Not too much water- because it had to be just the right consistency. We mixed a little cup each, decorated it with a few drops of fun food color and ate it straight...just a spoonful at a time! YUMMY!
We also ate bowls of ice cream every night, bags & boxes of cookies, candy corn, and the fundraising candy from the high school by the box! It was marvelous... Nobody even monitored it !

Kathy Wiedemann said...

Day 8 Yummy
The first thing that came to mind when contemplating all things “yummy” was my (maternal) grandmother’s biscuits. The grandkids always begged her to make us a big pan of that delectable bread! Mamaw never called them biscuits; she always said she was going to bake some bread for the “young-ins”. Most of the time she would painstakingly knead and roll out her dough then use whatever round object that happened to be in arm’s reach to cut out the individual portions…sometimes this was actually a biscuit cutter, but more often than not it was a drinking glass or coffee cup she would quickly snatch from the dish drainer. All the while she was surrounded by little bodies jockeying for position in the hopes she would bless us with a leftover scrap of the raw dough as she was cutting out those creamy white medallions! Oh my, we loved that dough! When she was in a hurry, she would skip the cutting portion and just pat out the entire blob of dough onto her baking sheet and stick it in the oven to bake a “pan-bread”, as she called it. She told us that was the only way her grandmother ever made bread, because cutting biscuits out of it was frivolous and a waste of time. As a child it never occurred to me that she was enjoying being defiant of her upbringing when she took the time to cut out the biscuits while explaining to us that this would have upset her own grandma and mother (wink).
Anyway…I loved that bread any way I could get it! If we were really lucky she would let us tear off a little piece of the “pan-bread” as soon as it came out of the oven…that happened very rarely. She made bread every single day while my grandfather was living. He didn’t feel like he’d had supper (dinner time is the noon meal, ya’ll) unless he had bread to “sop up” the gravy (which was actually whatever juices were left) on his plate at the end of his meal. I can only guess at how many thousands of bowls of dough she mixed up in her lifetime. No wonder they were beyond excellent! Getting biscuits with gravy for any and every breakfast I ever had at her house, even as an adult, was just how we lived. It was expected. I never knew how much I really loved (and missed!) her cooking until I was living far away and could only ruminate about the flavors and love flowing from that kitchen. In her later years, after my grandfather was gone, she would occasionally buy canned biscuits to prepare when she was just too tired to cook as much. That was our first sign that our mamaw was getting old (sniff).
My mother and I have tried but never duplicated those amazing biscuits. No one has! Believe me; I’m always looking to find a biscuit worthy of my mamaw’s. I also know this will never happen because no one will ever duplicate the secret ingredient she used…and that was her love. I am, however, blessed with knowing that my older two children were able to spend just two short years getting to know her. Occasionally they too, got to stand next to her, mouths watering, waiting for that precious little piece of raw dough to be pushed aside for them to taste before that beat up old pan went in the oven…