GRANDMA'S BISCUITS
ANDGRANDPA'S CORNBREAD
There are certain things that stick in our mind from our childhood. Some, perhaps most, of these are registered by way of our senses. An odor can remind us of a place. A place can remind us of a favorite relative. The feel of a fabric may bring to mind a favorite childhood dress. Memories are made of these.
One of the things I remember so vivid are Mother Eckie's (the name given my grandmother by her first grandchild) biscuits. She seemed to make them with such ease. I didn't realize for a a long time that it was because of practice. It amazed me to watch her handle the dough without it ‘pouring' out from between her fingers.
She kept her biscuit mixture in a big bowl. She would filled a five-cup sifter heaping full of flour, add salt, baking powder and baking soda. This was sifted into a round bottom bowl. Then, using her hand, she made a shallow hole in the middle and poured in buttermilk. She told me that at one time she mixed the dough with her hand but later began using a spoon. She mixed the flour into the milk, turning the bowl and keeping the flour even all around. Mother Eckie explained that the flour should be mixed slow being careful not to leave lumps. At just the right time, she scooped the dough out of the bowl and onto her floured cutting board. Then more flour was kneaded in until it was of the right consistency to cut out the biscuits. She never made drop biscuits. They were always cut out with a biscuit cutter and they were uniform in size. These were then placed in a pan with oil that had been heating in the oven. They were put in the pan and then turned over. She said you had to be careful doing this because the hot oil can make a blister real fast. This was all the oil Mother Eckie used in making biscuits. They rose perfectly every time and were so very good. The flour was scraped off the cutting board back into the bowl. All of this was sifted before she made biscuits again. Another sifter full of the flour mixture was added as needed. I have her recipe and can make scratch biscuits, but I have never reached the perfection to match hers. Oh, yes, I use to walk up and snitch a scrap piece of raw biscuit dough that was left over. It was so good and I still like to eat the raw dough to this day. Umm Good!
Mama showed me how when she was a little girl, she would punch a hole in a cold biscuit, fill it sopping full of syrup and eat it while sitting on the backdoor steps. It was really messy, but that was half the enjoyment. She told me how when the family lived on the farm, the biscuits left from breakfast were fill with real butter and homemade blackberry jam. This was carried to the field in a clean syrup bucket for a midmorning snack. She also like to eat them with mustard. Mama said that light bread was a real treat when she was a little girl and sometimes it was almost eaten before they could get home with it.
Mother Eckie could make the very best chicken and dumplings too. And guess what? The dumplings were made the same way as the biscuits with a lot more flour kneaded in. Then the dough was rolled real thin and cut in strips. The strips were broken into small pieces as they were dropped into the broth. If she had more of the dough than she needed, she sometimes would fry it in hot oil. These puff and brown and can be eaten with butter and syrup.
Another of Mother Eckie's specialities was chicken and cornbread dressing. Two or three of her biscuits were added to the mixture to make the dressing just the right texture. My daddy made the chicken and dressing by her recipe for our holiday meals and I try to make it the same way too.
My grandmother was a very good cook, but she was not the only good cook in the family. Daddy Will could cook too. He just didn't cook as much or as many different things. One of his specialities was cornbread, which was as light and as good as any cake. He would measure his meal in a bowl, add salt, soda and an egg. Then he would add enough buttermilk to make it the right consistency, which I think only he knew how to do. He would mix it well and pour into a pan with oil he had been heating in the oven. He had the oil so hot that it would sizzle when he poured into the pan that it would make a good crust on the bottom. Lest I forget, this pan was an old black pan that had been used so long that it had turned dark and it help to make the cornbread.just right. My Aunt still uses this pan for cornbread.
Daddy Will was a firm believer in eating plenty of vegetables. He especially loved turnip greens and collards. And, of course, one must have cornbread with that. Another dish he was fond of was what he called "fodder". This was made by chopping lettuce, spinach and green onions with hot fried bacon grease poured over it. I think some people called it wilted greens. This called for plenty of cornbread with some buttermilk to drink. Now you may be thinking that the meat grease was not healthy, but Daddy Will was never sick but one time in his life. He lived to be 89 and had made two gardens using a tiller his last summer.
Daddy Will was quite a fisherman too. He like to catch them, he cooked them and he could eat more than anyone. The plate was always piled high with catfish that had been caught from the river or one of the big lakes around home. When I was 8 years old, I got to go along on a fishing trip to Sulphur River with him, my mother, daddy, Mother Eckie and Uncle Aldo. We camped for three or four days, slept on cots with mosquito netting draped over them, and meals were cooked over an open fire. There was an old man living there in a shack who caught and sold fish for a living. I remember his name was Deason or Deaton. One day Daddy Will needed more bait for his trot lines and the old man showed us where brim could be caught in a small stream. He took a liking to me. He had me sit over this stream on a log and he baited my hook and took the fish off. I caught fish just as fast as I could get my hook in the water. Twenty one of them, to be exact. That was so much fun and I can remember it like it was yesterday.
Daddy Will made a ‘mean' pancake too. His recipe calls for vanilla flavoring and he cooked them on a homemade griddle. I try to make them the same way, but like other things, it is never the same.
That is what memories are made of, those sights, sounds, and taste of yesteryear. I still miss you both and I am so very glad that you were my grandparents. I Love You.
I am a grandmother now and I try to make good things for Kristan so that she will have memories of her grandmother, as I have of mine.