Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Christmas Memories
The purpose of this post is to answer my friend Maria and her blog..."foods that hold special meaning for you, especially those related to Christmas. Write about your memories!"
So here I am writing about a very special Christmas memory...or rather memories as it happens every year.
While I have many things I love about Christmas and about Christmas with my ever growing family...My most favorite thing about Christmas with my family deals solely with peanut brittle. You see the peanut brittle I so loving make for friends, co-workers, in-laws, etc... each year comes from a recipe passed down (NOT written down) from my great grandmother, Nanny. Even her measurements were from her specific teacup, the one with flowers or saucer....so it's all a big game of guesstimation.
She and several, and by several I mean 20 or more ladies from her church would spend hours in the church kitchen making brittle for a fundraiser at the church. I know this story because my Mama (grandmother) and Mom have told it several times in my life in such amazing detail that I even know where the ladies went to buy the peanuts in bulk...Mama asked just this year "Wonder if they still sell those peanuts by the sackfull...?" And so this tradition and loving memory gets carried on every year. For us now it is always the day after Thanksgiving...known as Brittle Day...I'm working on making it an official holiday. ;-) When I say us, we have certainly kept up with that large amount of women in the kitchen...not quite 20 but close. On Brittle Day, my Mama, my Mom, my Aunt, my Sister, my Cousin, my 4 cousin's Wives (we let them in only by marriage and "swearing in over their wooden spoon"), all converge on my mom's kitchen...soon enough we will have 5 children of cousins to join in when they are old enough to deal with hot syrup. We come loaded down with our supplies, wooden spoon in hand, and proceed to fight over who gets to use Nanny's pot and spoon...they are worn in the best after all. I love this day because we all laugh, talk, and generally just act silly as we sing Christmas songs for the first time that season. All the men and children gather around the tv to watch movies, play Wii, read books, and eventually they sneak away for some sports and beer....but trust me they love being there too, they get the crumbly bits that get chipped away and of course they beg for us to "accidentally" break one. My Mama and my cousin Sarah sit at the table and score, cool, and wrap pound after pound of brittle for hours while the rest of us slave away at the stove. Sarah's only cost for wrapping and sorting everyone's brittle? You have to give her some of what you made. LOL
I can remember the smell of peanut brittle instantly when someone says the words. I can hear my family laughing and complaining to open the back door b/c it's too hot in the kitchen. I look forward to Brittle Day every year, so much so that I hate not getting all my brittle made with them...it's boring to do it by yourself.
I adore my family and I adore this tradition. And even though I realized this year as I'm brittling away, that I wouldn't have a daughter (as of yet) to pass it down too (my son will still know how it's made...all the boys do, it's just the girl thing to make), I will someday have a wonderful woman my son will love as much as his daddy loves me. And I will "swear her in with her wooden spoon" and teach her how to make brittle. I can't imagine anything better.
So here I am writing about a very special Christmas memory...or rather memories as it happens every year.
While I have many things I love about Christmas and about Christmas with my ever growing family...My most favorite thing about Christmas with my family deals solely with peanut brittle. You see the peanut brittle I so loving make for friends, co-workers, in-laws, etc... each year comes from a recipe passed down (NOT written down) from my great grandmother, Nanny. Even her measurements were from her specific teacup, the one with flowers or saucer....so it's all a big game of guesstimation.
She and several, and by several I mean 20 or more ladies from her church would spend hours in the church kitchen making brittle for a fundraiser at the church. I know this story because my Mama (grandmother) and Mom have told it several times in my life in such amazing detail that I even know where the ladies went to buy the peanuts in bulk...Mama asked just this year "Wonder if they still sell those peanuts by the sackfull...?" And so this tradition and loving memory gets carried on every year. For us now it is always the day after Thanksgiving...known as Brittle Day...I'm working on making it an official holiday. ;-) When I say us, we have certainly kept up with that large amount of women in the kitchen...not quite 20 but close. On Brittle Day, my Mama, my Mom, my Aunt, my Sister, my Cousin, my 4 cousin's Wives (we let them in only by marriage and "swearing in over their wooden spoon"), all converge on my mom's kitchen...soon enough we will have 5 children of cousins to join in when they are old enough to deal with hot syrup. We come loaded down with our supplies, wooden spoon in hand, and proceed to fight over who gets to use Nanny's pot and spoon...they are worn in the best after all. I love this day because we all laugh, talk, and generally just act silly as we sing Christmas songs for the first time that season. All the men and children gather around the tv to watch movies, play Wii, read books, and eventually they sneak away for some sports and beer....but trust me they love being there too, they get the crumbly bits that get chipped away and of course they beg for us to "accidentally" break one. My Mama and my cousin Sarah sit at the table and score, cool, and wrap pound after pound of brittle for hours while the rest of us slave away at the stove. Sarah's only cost for wrapping and sorting everyone's brittle? You have to give her some of what you made. LOL
I can remember the smell of peanut brittle instantly when someone says the words. I can hear my family laughing and complaining to open the back door b/c it's too hot in the kitchen. I look forward to Brittle Day every year, so much so that I hate not getting all my brittle made with them...it's boring to do it by yourself.
I adore my family and I adore this tradition. And even though I realized this year as I'm brittling away, that I wouldn't have a daughter (as of yet) to pass it down too (my son will still know how it's made...all the boys do, it's just the girl thing to make), I will someday have a wonderful woman my son will love as much as his daddy loves me. And I will "swear her in with her wooden spoon" and teach her how to make brittle. I can't imagine anything better.
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