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Saturday, January 12, 2019
Grandma's Kitchen
Describe your grandma's kitchen. What made it special to you? What did you talk about around the table? Politics? Religion? or family day to day events. Take us into your grandma's kitchen.
gran's kitchen was always covered in flour the more she would bake the flour would grow from hour to hour my fav were the pies filled with onions and steak cherry cake filled my eyes
my family is all gone now but the recipes survive through me so granny take a bow i still remember when cooking steak, put on a little honey and not to eat chestnuts before november.
it took me back writing this. could smell the steak and kidneys bubbling in the sauce pan and the massive stew pot being filled with vegetables and gravy...you ever had a yorkshire pudding bonita? - love - paul.
thanks paul. i still can't get the pastry right and as for chicken and mushroom puff pastry pies.....no way - cream doughnuts with gooseberry jam - paul.
oh, i can write about trees and beaches vic, but i am the maestro of bad relationships ha ha - an apple pie secret..put in cinnamon ssshhh - love - paul.
Grandmas's kitchen had a secret a magical place I had never before seen her kitchen was small but filled with love a collection of salt and pepper shakers lined the shelf above the sink but the secret place behind the curtain was filled with magical scents of spices used in the baking of her cookies. It was also a place to hide when things go to noisy or busy yes, the magical place behind the curtain was my favorite thing about Grandma's kitchen.
don't look behind the curtain! - the wizard of oz ha ha. nice to have a secret place to hide, with a book. mine was half way up a tree - it's the little spices that do it - love - paul.
While my grandmother drank her tea I drank from a tall thin glass filled with ginger ale that ticked my nose, and ate cookies, and English muffins toasted over the flame of the old coal stove in her kitchen.
We played games of cards—Oklahoma, and Canasta, and there would be a fire in her fireplace fed with big pieces of Cannel coal. She was my father's mother, called by her choice "Nonny" not grandma or granny
The big old coal stove in her kitchen with an oven and flat round covers over the fire inside was presided over by Josephine, dressed always in a shiny uniform and white apron. She baked and cooked wonderfully.
Nonny never baked or cooked except she fixed hamburg and peas for her dogs though she did when Josephine was away, I only rememberJosie's cookies baked in that oven. I never sat in Nonny's kitchen.
Nonny and I sat in the parlor on the French provincial furniture, as Josephine served those cookies and the delicious well buttered English muffins toasted over the fire in that big old coal stove.
Gramma Hines was about ten feet tall and mostly lived in her kitchen she cooked and baked and always moved filling up the pantry
I'd watch her very quietly or she'd make me go outside In and out of the curtain she went filling that room with food
well, one thing I knew about the pantry was the peanut butter and jelly were housed very neatly in there and I was four and I wanted, peanut butter
My cousin came for the day while we were staying at gramma's house He was five and made the day come alive! because he always had a smile on his face
Gramma was hanging up clothes just then and he had a brilliant idea! he dug us out a great big spoon... I just couldn't believe his nerve
we sneaked right behind the curtain and Jimmy opened up the jar... the aroma was like heaven as he spooned us out a bite
He became my hero we shared the spoon so well we devoured the jar before too long and didn't hear Gramma come in.
Needless to say we had hell to pay I just stood wide-eyed and scared with a little giggle in my belly and took the yelling she gave us
when suddenly, Jimmy grabbed my hand and dragged me off a-runnin' She grabbed the spoon, the wooden one and chased us out the door
where we were greeted by summertime with memories of Gramma's pantry in it the taste of peanut butter on my tongue and thoughts of raiding pantries on my mind
Linda, this is sweet. I remember you telling me the story of the pantry and the peanut butter. This poem just brought it to life. I enjoyed it very much.
Loved it. What a great story! And wonderful memory too. (shakes head) you were some kid!Imagine eating an entire jar of peanut better with your buddy's help!
The rhythm and rhyme is really good in this poem. I really enjoyed it a lot. I enjoyed the way you took us right into the kitchen with breakfast cooking....I could almost smell it!!
I really don't have memories of my grandmother's kitchen, but I already had this poem about my mother's kitchen. She was a grandmother too, so I guess that counts.
My mother's kitchen was her sanctuary away from family and angry husband She never could cook daily meals very well. She seemed to take a lot of time with dinner.
Away from family and angry husband no children allowed while she prepared she seemed to take a lot of time with dinner so I never learned to cook when I was young.
No children allowed while she prepared, I would watch from outside at the back screen door so I never learned to cook when I was young, a good thing since I didn't like her meals much.
I would watch from outside at the back screen door cooking motions, pans banging, not recipes, a good thing since I didn't like her meals much. She would work out her frustrations in the work.
Cooking motions, pans banging, not recipes, She never could cook daily meals very well. She would work out her frustrations in the work. My mother's kitchen was her sanctuary.
I had forgotten how long she took preparing meals that like you said were never very good although I did love her meatloaf. her forte was in baking. and yes it didn't have to be your grandmother but a grandmother. I should have specified that in the prompt. Well done by the way!
You bring the scene to life beautifully, And I can appreciate someone not liking to cook because my mother didn't either, though she never banged the pots and pans as I remember.
FLOUR POWER
ReplyDeletegran's kitchen was always covered in flour
the more she would bake
the flour would grow from hour to hour
my fav were the pies
filled with onions and steak
cherry cake filled my eyes
my family is all gone now
but the recipes survive through me
so granny take a bow
i still remember
when cooking steak, put on a little honey
and not to eat chestnuts before november.
what a sweet and wonderful memory. you brought the sentiments to life with this little poem.
Deleteit took me back writing this. could smell the steak and kidneys bubbling in the sauce pan and the massive stew pot being filled with vegetables and gravy...you ever had a yorkshire pudding bonita? - love - paul.
DeleteGreat memories, and nicely written. I liked this one a lot!
DeleteFlour Power is a terrific poem! I know you have a lot of memories of Gran. I'll bet she was a real gem of a person and her kitchen sounds glorious.
DeletePaul, great poem! It gave us a lot of insight to your life and your gram. I really loved this poem a lot.
Deletethanks tash. nice and warm in gran's kitchen on a cold day too - love - paul.
Deletethanks wolfie. i was the only one allowed in gran's kitchen....a good place to hide from my crazy sister - quiche and apple pies - paul.
Deletethanks paul. i still can't get the pastry right and as for chicken and mushroom puff pastry pies.....no way - cream doughnuts with gooseberry jam - paul.
DeleteI love this one!! You really can write about things other than bad relationships.
Deleteoh, i can write about trees and beaches vic, but i am the maestro of bad relationships ha ha - an apple pie secret..put in cinnamon ssshhh - love - paul.
DeleteGrandmas's kitchen had a secret
ReplyDeletea magical place I had never before seen
her kitchen was small but filled with love
a collection of salt and pepper shakers
lined the shelf above the sink
but the secret place behind the curtain
was filled with magical scents of spices
used in the baking of her cookies.
It was also a place to hide when
things go to noisy or busy
yes, the magical place behind the curtain
was my favorite thing about Grandma's kitchen.
Interesting! What fun. Did you eavesdrop from there? Your description is nice.
DeleteThe curtain was the pantry. It was a real room with all those shelves for canned food. I loved that curtain, too. Beautiful poem. I loved it.
DeleteBonnie, I really enjoyed your poem a lot. A lot of good imagery put us right in your gramma's kitchen.
DeleteI did not have remembered grandma's kitchen but this poem brought it all back. Well done.
Deletedon't look behind the curtain! - the wizard of oz ha ha. nice to have a secret place to hide, with a book. mine was half way up a tree - it's the little spices that do it - love - paul.
ReplyDeleteNonny's Kitchen
ReplyDeleteWhile my grandmother drank her tea
I drank from a tall thin glass filled with ginger ale
that ticked my nose, and ate cookies,
and English muffins toasted over the flame
of the old coal stove in her kitchen.
We played games of cards—Oklahoma,
and Canasta, and there would be
a fire in her fireplace fed with big pieces
of Cannel coal. She was my father's mother,
called by her choice "Nonny" not grandma or granny
The big old coal stove in her kitchen
with an oven and flat round covers over the fire inside
was presided over by Josephine,
dressed always in a shiny uniform and white apron.
She baked and cooked wonderfully.
Nonny never baked or cooked except
she fixed hamburg and peas for her dogs
though she did when Josephine was away,
I only rememberJosie's cookies baked in that oven.
I never sat in Nonny's kitchen.
Nonny and I sat in the parlor
on the French provincial furniture,
as Josephine served those cookies
and the delicious well buttered English muffins
toasted over the fire in that big old coal stove.
Sounds like a segment from a movie. Nicely written. The imagery lets us see that coal stove and Josephine...sounds neat
DeleteTasha, I loved your poem. I especially liked the last line a lot. Very cultural cookies and muffins...
Deletenice tash. i liked coal stoves and fires. good at setting fire to things, but a small price to pay for beauty - cookies and canasta - paul.
Deletelike the others I liked the imagery. made it easy to picture. nice memories.
DeleteThanks to all for kind comments.
DeleteYes, as Linda said, it reminds me of a scene from a movie. Great imagery. It was like I was there.
DeleteGramma Hines was about ten feet tall
ReplyDeleteand mostly lived in her kitchen
she cooked and baked and always moved
filling up the pantry
I'd watch her very quietly
or she'd make me go outside
In and out of the curtain she went
filling that room with food
well, one thing I knew about the pantry
was the peanut butter and jelly
were housed very neatly in there
and I was four and I wanted, peanut butter
My cousin came for the day
while we were staying at gramma's house
He was five and made the day come alive!
because he always had a smile on his face
Gramma was hanging up clothes just then
and he had a brilliant idea!
he dug us out a great big spoon...
I just couldn't believe his nerve
we sneaked right behind the curtain
and Jimmy opened up the jar...
the aroma was like heaven
as he spooned us out a bite
He became my hero
we shared the spoon so well
we devoured the jar before too long
and didn't hear Gramma come in.
Needless to say we had hell to pay
I just stood wide-eyed and scared
with a little giggle in my belly
and took the yelling she gave us
when suddenly, Jimmy grabbed my hand
and dragged me off a-runnin'
She grabbed the spoon, the wooden one
and chased us out the door
where we were greeted by summertime
with memories of Gramma's pantry in it
the taste of peanut butter on my tongue
and thoughts of raiding pantries on my mind
Linda, this is sweet. I remember you telling me the story of the pantry and the peanut butter. This poem just brought it to life. I enjoyed it very much.
Deleteyou paint a vivid picture wolfie. was it the smooth peanut butter, or the crunchy one? - peanuts in the pantry - charlie brown.
Deletelmbo! yep I remember that. I never saw grandma mad before or after that but she sure was mad that day!
DeleteLoved it. What a great story! And wonderful memory too. (shakes head) you were some kid!Imagine eating an entire jar of peanut better with your buddy's help!
DeleteLOL. As the others said, great story. Although as a poem, if you're going to name Jimmy, I think it should be the first time he is mentioned.
DeleteGramma's Kitchen
ReplyDeleteI loved the smell of coffee
wafting through the air
bacon and eggs frying
and me without a care
she stirred her spoon
round and round
reading the paper
for tidbits to be found
I sat at the table
in my childhood wonder
plotting the piracy
of sugary plunder
gramma baked pies
and cookies too
she put them up high
cause knew what I would do
so many ingredients
the mystery of cooking
but it's only for sweets
that I kept looking
a place to dream dreams
a magical realm
my ship and crew with me
as I stood at the helm
endless possibilities
in the pungent air
that made me so happy
so, I really didn't care
Life's magic moment
in a frame from time
my new "Redball" sneakers
could stop on a dime
I sit and listen
and soak in the sensations
oblivious of the strife
between our world's nations
a bubble of protection
supported by sound and smell
what gramma was making
I really couldn't tell
it smelled good in the kitchen
and made me feel all snuggy
but gramma kicked me out
'cuz I was driving her buggy
The rhythm and rhyme is really good in this poem. I really enjoyed it a lot. I enjoyed the way you took us right into the kitchen with breakfast cooking....I could almost smell it!!
Deletegreat imagery and the rhythm carried through making it lilting and melodic. good write.
DeleteAdorable! What fun. wonderful poem with lots of cute and happy thoughts and images.
DeleteSounds like a great place to be. Nice rhyme and rhythm too.
Deleteyou need a leg up to reach those pies on the top shelf paul. piracy is good - the cookie monster.
ReplyDeleteI really don't have memories of my grandmother's kitchen, but I already had this poem about my mother's kitchen. She was a grandmother too, so I guess that counts.
ReplyDeleteMy mother's kitchen was her sanctuary
away from family and angry husband
She never could cook daily meals very well.
She seemed to take a lot of time with dinner.
Away from family and angry husband
no children allowed while she prepared
she seemed to take a lot of time with dinner
so I never learned to cook when I was young.
No children allowed while she prepared,
I would watch from outside at the back screen door
so I never learned to cook when I was young,
a good thing since I didn't like her meals much.
I would watch from outside at the back screen door
cooking motions, pans banging, not recipes,
a good thing since I didn't like her meals much.
She would work out her frustrations in the work.
Cooking motions, pans banging, not recipes,
She never could cook daily meals very well.
She would work out her frustrations in the work.
My mother's kitchen was her sanctuary.
I had forgotten how long she took preparing meals that like you said were never very good although I did love her meatloaf. her forte was in baking. and yes it didn't have to be your grandmother but a grandmother. I should have specified that in the prompt. Well done by the way!
ReplyDeleteYou did specify in the prompt, saying "your" grandma TWICE.
Deletesometimes cooking can relieve stress. beating a steak to tenderise it can be quite theraputic - love and chicken casseroles - paul.
ReplyDeleteYou bring the scene to life beautifully, And I can appreciate someone not liking to cook because my mother didn't either, though she never banged the pots and pans as I remember.
ReplyDeletePS just a thought, Can you substitute another word for Work as in Worked out her frustrations in the work? Just wondering...
Delete