Traditions

The Phenom's mother died about 11 or so years ago. She was an interesting woman. She was very money savvy. But she was from a small town, a child of the depression, and a girl at a time when it wasn't really expected that girls be able to do more than basic math and read and write.

She dropped out of school at 16 because she decided that she would make just as much working in the factory as she would in a year and a half when she graduated.

She wanted a large family, but only managed to have the Phenom. I've observed that in some ways, it was if she and the Phenom were of the same soul.

The Phenom sometimes regrets that his mother's cooking is gone forever. I observed her make biscuits, but I'll never make mine taste like hers. I can cook pot after pot of pintos, but they just won't ever live up to the memory. I don't try to compete. Sadly, I don't have any of her recipes. But, that could be a good thing . . . I never have to worry that I followed the recipe exactly and it still didn't quite meet expectations.

I did get her biscuit bowl. It is an inexpensive bit of stoneware with a blue acorn pattern. It is cracked on one side. But, it has made thousands of biscuits.

Tonight, I made a batch of MY biscuits in the bowl. And, after dinner, I wrapped the biscuit pan in a clean towel and set it on the stove for the morning. Just the way the Phenom's mother did. They may not taste the same, but I think he knows the respect is there.