Here I am working on The Flexitarian Pantry and I realized I hadn’t given credit where credit is due - to my two grandmothers. Both women taught me to cook. One, in particular, taught me the value of experimentation. One created recipes, the other never used a recipe.
Baubi
Gramma
These two women inhabited completely different food worlds and I was blessed to have the opportunity to experience both.
One grandmother, Baubi, was brilliant, talented, creative, artistic, flamboyant, adventurous, ambitious, outgoing, dramatic… Baubi had short crazy flaming red hair and bright green eyes. She wrote plays, designed sets and costumes for local theaters, even acted. I never had to worry about a Halloween or Purim costume because she had an attic full of costumes. She lived in a Christmas tree green two-story house with a bright red front door and a wrap around screen porch. Her furniture consisted of mismatched antique pieces she’d picked up over the years, and books. Books everywhere. Her kitchen walls were papered with food wallpaper - green wallpaper covered with images of fruits and vegetables. Her kitchen was probably my favorite place to sit and chat in the entire world.
Her yard was a jungle- with huge walnut trees and oaks. She had flower gardens and herb beds everywhere, all surrounded by an enormous hedge of bridal wreath. The garden pathways were festooned by garlands of climbing roses. There were lilacs, lilies of the valley, tulips, elderberry, mint, basil, oregano, garlic, onions. She even had an outdoor wood oven built by my grandfather back in the 40′s specifically designed for baking breads and pastries.
On the other hand, Gramma was shy and reserved. In my mind’s eye, I picture a silent woman with a pale braid wrapped around her head. I was a really little kid, but I remember that on rare occasions she’d unwrap the braid. Her hair hung below her waist and she’d let me brush it. When I was in the first or second grade she cut it short, but she kept the braid. I found it one day wrapped in tissue paper in a box in her jewelry drawer.
As long as I knew her, Gramma lived in a compact two bedroom apartment in a high-rise within walking distance of downtown Omaha. She collected china figurines and her furniture was cheap knock-off French Provincial. Gramma was this little tiny woman walking everywhere all by herself. She was so tiny that unfortunately she did fall and break her hip at least three times in her later years.
Despite her itty-bitty size- (My grandfather, Baubi’s husband, gave her the nickname “Mighty” and it stuck)- her life was all about family and cooking. She was a fantastic cook and baker. She never visited anyone, even for an hour, without bringing a shopping bag filled with goodies. Her cheese-stuffed blintzes were to die for.
There were certain items each of my grandmothers was never without- stored in her pantry, her fridge or her freezer. Some are similar, of course, but each woman possessed a very different palate.
See if you can guess which pantry belongs to which grandmother:
Pantry #1
Softassilk Cake Flour, Baking Soda, Baking Powder, Corn Starch, Yeast, White Sugar, Celery Salt, Butter, Eggs, Whole Milk, Cream Cheese, Cottage Cheese, Dry Cottage Cheese, Farmer’s Cheese, Homemade Chicken Broth, Schmaltz, Green Vegetables and Herbs, Root Vegetables, Lemons, Chicken, Canned Tuna, Canned Whole Tomatoes, Beef Short Ribs, Mayonnaise, Chicken Breasts, Chicken Livers, Chocolate Chips, Buttermilk, Sour Cream, Lipton Tea, Apple Cider Vinegar, Home-Canned Peaches, Stewed Prunes, Dried Prunes, Strawberry Jam, Canned Poppy Seed Filling, Cream of Wheat, Frozen Spinach, Frozen Peas.
Pantry #2
Salt, Pepper, Chili Flakes, Garlic Powder, Yeast, Brown Sugar, Maple Syrup, Honey, Whole Wheat Flour, Graham Flour, Buttermilk, Cream, Neapolitan Ice Cream, Folger’s Coffee, Sugar Cubes, Whole Milk, Orange Juice, Fresh Fruits and Fresh Vegetables, Leafy Greens, Basil, Oregano, Mint, Savory, Marjoram, Ginger, Curry, Bay Leaves, Cumin, Chili Powder, Garlic, Sherry Vinegar, Red Wine Vinegar, Shallots, Chives, Onions, Olive Oil, Anchovies, Capers, Smoked Oysters, Smoked Clams, Canned Shrimp, Canned Crab, Canned Tuna, Sardines Packed in Salt, Sardines Packed in Olive Oil, Canned Whole Tomatoes, Pickled Onions, Spanish Olives, Pimentos, Pickled Peppers, Pickled Okra, Pickled White Asparagus, Dried Beans and Peas, Canned Escargot, Clam Juice, Soy Sauce, Homemade Fish Stock, Homemade Chicken Stock, Homemade Beef Stock, Beef Tongue, Beef Brisket, Pheasant, Squab, Game Hens, Chicken Thighs and Legs, Lemon Juice frozen in ice cube trays, Homemade Jam (whatever was ripe), Eggs, Oatmeal, Walnuts, Almonds, Pistachios, Sesame Seeds, Chocolate Bars, Peanut Butter, Black-Strap Molasses, Ketchup.
I remember every single smell and taste. Can’t say I liked tongue or chicken liver though. My husband does. Even though he was a vegetarian for many years he still remembers his grandmother’s beef tongue and chopped chicken liver.
Lovely memories. I really don’t have any of either grand mother, because we left for Australia when I was four years old. You’re lucky.
I am very lucky, Greta. Both lived into their late 80′s and never lost a brain cell.
Wonderful memories of two extraordinary women in your life.
Memory experts claim our sense of smell creates the deepest, strongest, most evocative memories. I bet rarely a day passes when you aren’t reminded of your grandmothers. You are blessed.
Good reminder, too, for me to do some serious pantry inventory. Mine is a bit embarrassing these days.
What memories this brings back. My grandmothers were as opposite as two women could be. One was quiet and very loving, the other cranky, but I knew she loved me. Grandma Schoonover taught me to make lime cheesecake, still one of my favorite desserts. Grandma Queen made the most amazing dried candied apricots. I waited too long to ask for the recipe. She said she didn’t remember. I’ve looked for years and haven’t found anything even close.
Your grandmothers sound wonderful.
Wow, Stephanie, your grandmothers sound like mine. Lime cheesecake - yum! Too bad you don’t have the recipe for the dried candied apricots. I’m so grateful for the fact that Gramma wrote all her recipes down. Everyone in our broad, extended family has shared them. Gramma Jennie or Aunt Jennie was known far and wide for her incredible pastries, breads, cakes, pies.
I know, Jaye - I often remember via smell - good and bad. Don’t sweat the pantry honey. One thing at a time.
Yes, Amber. Thanks.
What a beautiful post Julia! This was a joy to read. The women in your family are exceptionally gifted.
Thank you, Kat. The women in my family, especially my father’s family, are unique.
I really love the whole old-fashioned concept of having a pantry. I made sure we had one for our new kitchen. I love your lists! They both tell a story.
I have to admit the coolest pantry I have ever been in was my friend Smita’s. Her family had a whole room filled with barrels of Indian spices. The fragrance was incredible. That’s when I started my love for Indian food.
Isn’t it interesting how women used to spend the entire day with food preparation? I would be exhausted.
You friend’s pantry is my idea of heaven, Penny. Well, at least we no longer have to chew hides to soften them.
Inappropriate comment warning: I swear to god I was skimming this blog backwards and read the title as “My Grandmother’s Panties” after reading about “Four for All” or whatever that title was. “First an orgy novel and now this”, I thought? What a relief it was when I realized my mistake.
Yoshi - Bwwwaaaaa-haaaaaa! I know! I wrote the post and I read “My grandmothers’ panties”! Too funny!
I’m partial to grandmother stories, and this one is a keeper! Especially once I reread the title-I also read it too quickly and made the same mistake as Yoshi.
Oh Marylin - I keep reading grandmother’s panties! I may have to change the title!
TOO LATE MISSY I’ve already tweeted that we are discussing your meemaws knickers, sheesh……
No 1 pantry belongs to Gramma……
I have fond memories of my mothers mother, who had the kindest face and words for every one and her wee hoose on the corner in Fernigair was always the most wonderful place to visit as there was always something wonderful and new to smell taste and marvel at the resultant fantastic feelings felt on devouring her food and especially her jams
My fathers mother on the other hand, was a foul tempered witch who should have been burned alive, which now I think about it goes a long way to explain what an arsehole my father was
Oh to have a big pantry drool drool
I know, Tom… my meemaw’s knickers! Every time I read it I read panties! Ack! Your mother’s mother sounds like a dream, like my grandmother. Your other mother sounds like one of my great-grandmothers. Baubi always said Mary wasn’t born, she crawled out from under a rock.