Memories

I was about fourteen years old, it was thanksgiving, a week early like we always did at my grandparents. That was always the only time that our family was able to get together before the actual holiday. Pure chaos, as usual at my gram n’ peps. The adults were cooking, while the little children were running around and the older kids were upstairs, or playing pool. “Time to eat” my gram hollered, and everyone dropped what they were doing to run as fast as possible to the kitchen. A line going into the next room of people waiting for their food, but of course I made it up front.

Everyone was settled in, stuffing their faces, my cousin and I up at the bad eating, the adults at the table and the children at the kids table. Before we knew it, people getting up for seconds, sometimes maybe even thirds, while others passed out from a food coma. About an hour had gone by and my gram began to prepare her famous whipped cream, for the pies of course. So much commotion throughout the house my grams mind was not on the whipped cream, it was most definitely on us. We never questioned her ways, we just kind of assumed she was right, because she almost always was. This time, maybe not.

I was wondering why the sugar she was adding to the whipped cream looked a little funky, but I did not think to ask at the time. About ten or so minutes go by when she tells us that the best whipped cream I have ever tasted is ready. Believe me when I say that it is good I’m talking so delicious that she specifically makes a totally separate batch for my cousin and I because we will most definitely eat it all. Everyone slices a piece and chows down. Well… not so much, we all simultaneously spit the food right out noticing something was off about the whipped cream. It tasted very… salty. That was the moment we realized that my gram was using salt instead of sugar on accident. Everyone begins to laugh and joke about the gross food mistake.

For as long as I can remember, my grandparents have always been great cooks. My personal favorite was the crepes that they used to make. My pep would make the batter for the crepes the night before. He never follows a recipe, and it is never the same. In his crepes is something so good that makes each bite so much more tasty. What he would use is his secret recipe, so I of course can not tell you. Just know, it makes the crepes SO GOOD! He always made the crepe batter the night before so that all the chunks would float to the top by the morning. My pep also never used a mixer, because it was not made the way he liked it when made with one.

By morning my gram would start the stove, at a low setting. She knew that it was ready when she could flick water onto the pan and see it sizzle. She would then put crisco on the pan, add the batter, and rotate the pan so that the batter was evenly distributed.

My grandparents always knew how much I loved my favorite breakfast food, that they let me join in and help make the crepes for the coming morning. My pep let me crack the eggs, spin the batter, and even filled me in on what the secret ingredient was. I felt too proud to be one of the few who knew about the greatness that made the crepes so good. Once, we were finished I went to bed, and enjoys making the crepes on the stove in the morning. I was not a natural, those crepes were not circle, but they tasted great! As they always have.

My grandmother died three years ago this August. She was one of the greatest woman I have ever known. When she passed away, my pep was not the same, he lost the love of his life and did not last long without her. He died about a year after my gram, but a few days before, I got the crepe recipe from my pep. I listened close and wrote down everything I could hear. I now make crepes a few times a month, it is my favorite breakfast meal of course. I do not follow the recipe, just like my pep. I use crisco like my gram, and I have finally perfected the circle. I miss my grandparents but I am happy to share such great memories with the time I had.

Photo by: Magnolia St.Germain