I come from a family of great cooks. My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins can all throw down in the kitchen, whipping up dishes I can only dream of making.
I didn't grow up watching them cook, absorbing the details behind every scent and flavor profile, but I know what good food tastes like. I crave that warm feeling of nostalgia that washes over me when a dish tastes just right.
With Thanksgiving fast approaching, I'm committed to capturing that feeling in my own cooking, one recipe at a time.
I could try something new, maybe even take a look back at the "Sound of Ideas" series "The Menu" for some fresh inspiration, but to perfect the basics, I decided to go to one of my most reliable sources: my grandmother.
She taught me my first word, treated me to oatmeal raisin cookies on Saturday sleep-overs, and her peach cobbler recipe simply can't be beat.
Earlier this week I asked if we could get back into the kitchen together, starting with deviled eggs, which I'd love to perfect in time for the holiday.
Last year my grandma put on a brave face when she tasted my deviled eggs.
"They're good," she said as she smiled through a grimace. "You did a good job!"
I used too much mayo and added relish for a little razzle dazzle. I knew they weren't prefect, that something was a little off, but I managed to do just well enough to earn her stamp of approval anyway. Or maybe she was just being a supportive grandma as she choked down every bite.
This time around, I wanted to do it her way, the way her grandmother's recipe — my Great Great Grandma Moyie — taught her when she was little.
It's simple, she told me. Five ingredients added to the egg yolks: Miracle Whip, yellow mustard, salt, pepper and a pinch of sugar. No measurements. Just add a little of this and a little of that until it tastes like you remember it.
While we boiled and peeled and sliced and mixed, she shared memories of spending days in the kitchen with Grandma Moyie, helping to mix cake batter with a big wooden spoon while her siblings were chastised for doing too much talking and not enough cooking.
As we filled the eggs, I told her how some online recipes tell you to put the yolks in a piping bag for a flawless look. She chuckled and shook her head, assuring me we were doing everything exactly like Moyie used to do.
By the time our deviled eggs were done, I could tell by looking at them that they were just right. They looked exactly like I remembered seeing them each holiday growing up
The first bite took me back to Thanksgivings at my Great Aunt Diane's house, or to Easter Sundays at my childhood home in Maple Heights. When my grandma asked me if I missed the relish, I laughed out loud and told her it hadn't even crossed my mind.
I'm grateful for the opportunity to have endless recipes and resources at my fingertips, but learning from your elders is irreplicable.
I'll be making Great-Great Grandma Moyie's deviled egg recipe on my own in two weeks, and I'm eager to hear what my grandma thinks.
I'm hoping for a flawless review, or at least no grimace. But even if it takes me a few tries, I'll find peace of mind in knowing that I'll be able to take my grandmother's recipe with me where ever I go.
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