Cranberry Legacy

As small children some of us might dream that we are descendants of royalty, perhaps others, famous artists, and still others, inventors or writers. Like the caste system in India, my legacy was pretty clear...I come from a long line of women (and a few men) who feed people. Like Captain Dan, there is no escaping our destiny. I've tried, believe me.

My immediate predecessor, while fairly surly and a  perfectionist (as all good cooks tend to be), loves to feed others. As far back as I can remember Mom has been feeding the collective flock. Where most people give words of encouragement, condolence, or congratulations, she gives food. Without speaking a word, she has shared what is in her heart. Her food epitomizes comfort, home, and caring (and just a little bit of spice to keep you on edge!).

To my grandmother Pearl, giving food was simply what you did. She had very humble beginnings, grew up during the Great Depression, and worked hard her whole life, but her gift to the world was food. She could turn utterly "nothing" into a fantastic meal. She was way ahead of her time, using spices and ingredients that are mainstays today. Her killer Mac and cheese, Welsh Rarebit on toast points, Spaghetti Sauce, and roasts were to die for. But, she wasn't a baker. My grandfather would always strongly suggest, with a wink, that we eat her cookies "quick, before they had a chance to set-up"!

One of my favorite childhood memories occurred when I was about eight. After a heavy Thanksgiving dinner my grandmother and I were the only ones left to clean up. I don't know who lobbed the first shot, but before I knew it, we were firing handfuls of cranberry jelly at each other across the dining table and giggling like two year old girls. She had the quality of being able to find happiness and joy from nearly anything.

Every neighborhood child knew stopping by "Pearls" would produce a full meal of some sort. They always came by under the premise of wanting to do yard work or run to the store for her, but I'm pretty sure the underlying motive was something good to eat. When she passed away a few years back at the ripe old age of ninety-something, we got a call from one of those "youngsters" she had fed so many years before, and he said how wonderful she had always been to him and that he had never forgotten. Maybe she knew back then that by feeding someone you give them more than mere food for the belly.

Inevitably even today, when we all get together, we browse cookbooks, talk food, recipes, parties, holidays, celebrations, and the rare, memorable hangover! We relive the special moments when we've gathered around the table together in joy and sorrow, and shared the love that we can't always put into words, but instead put into our gift of food. I'm blessed to have a huge-hearted, loving, extraordinarily witty, and kind family to have learned from, and to keep learning from.