So this daily post went into how writing about your typical school lunch as a child is a great way to help with writer’s block. Hmmm, that’s what I said when I read that but I continued to read on with a high level of suspicion. How in the world is writing about my lunch time food as a kid going to help me in any way at all? I am not even sure I can re-collect what I ate as a child on a regular basis.
Though, I do have a section in my blog labeled ” Fantastic Food” and some of the best food I have enjoyed without bias or judgement was when I was a kid, grateful now, that my mother and my grandpa always encouraged food as an exciting feat to be conquered that you can then taste. I always stood at the edge of the kitchen counter in great anticipation of every little ingredient my grandpa would put into his lima bean soup, which we had a fair amount of the time. Seriously, my cousins and I would have lima bean soup a lot at grandpa’s house and he would always add a dash spice and a story about being a cook in the navy so every drop was delicious. My mom made fantastic Lasagna, and it never mattered what time of the day it was, huge family style meals were cooked at any given time of the day which meant lunch as a kid could easily be an amalgamation of heavier food from the previous nights dinner or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But it wasn’t very often that the latter occurred. My moms family was from the south originally so food was overbearingly filled with soul I would assume. My grandmother made a fabulous peach cobbler. When I was a kid I definitely didn’t understand the idea of the word ‘cobbler’ let alone what it even was, but we always wound up eating every single bite of it. And if I was at my grandpa’s house as a kid he would let me have a piece in the middle of the day if no one else was around, as not to ruin my appetite for dinner. My grandpa planted the seed of love for pastries and baked goods inside of me for sure. hehe.
I can also recall, with much better certainty, the food my grandpa made for us as a teenager. Baked fish was often on the menu. I didn’t realize until I was an adult that an enormous amount of butter must have been used when doing so. When I asked my cousin Jeremy, who is but two years younger than I, his recollection was even more vivid and hilarious than my own, having recalled grandpa drinking what amounts to a Black long island iced tea minus the tea and calling everyone “jive turkeys”, (still unsure what that means) and the 6 o clock news playing in the background, always. Still this never prevented a fabulous meal from happening. And my grandmother, Emma, who was probably the most elegant woman you’d ever come across, made a fabulous spaghetti sauce from scratch. Everything she did was nothing short of fabulous including raising 6 children, one of which was not her own, putting up with grandpa and still finding time to wear a mink coat with the appropriate jewelry whenever the mood struck her. 🙂
Some of my childhood memories were clouded by not so great memories, but thinking of the times any of us were huddled around food clears some of that up for me. Which must be saving me on therapy at the moment.
So here I sit, daily post, having originally been of a skeptical mindset about writing about lunch time as a kid. Then the words fell onto the page as you said they would. Thank you. I think the memories of our childhood are forever imprinted on our souls and in our minds, they can never be forgotten and if I can drudge up things I ate on a regular basis 20 years ago I hope I can reach within myself for all my future blogging endeavors. Thank you daily post. 🙂