The Day our Skillet Went Cold

Each year on January 27, I re-post my tribute to my grandmother Tom. She will be missed as long as I'm living.

It was on this day, 13 years ago, that our family lost my beloved grandmother Tom. I’ve never written about that day. In fact, I don’t know that I’ve spoken of it with more than a handful of people. There are three days in my life that each and every detail live on so vividly in my mind and this is one of them. I was with her on the exact moment she no longer was on this Earth. It is equally as precious as the minutes when my children were born. 

Tom was healthy her entire life, much more so than any other person I’ve known. She cooked daily until she was 100, never had a problem with arthritis, and often wore Nike running shoes the last few years of her life. Only weeks before her death, she was confined to a hospital bed, but still, uttered not one single complaint. Just like always, she never missed a moment to say, “I love you,” or to hold our hands. 

I have always felt that Tom and I were connected on an even deeper level than that of a grandchild and grandparent. Our pure love of the kitchen bound us like nothing else could. It was her cast iron skillet filled with fried chicken that first taught me how comfort and love could be tasted and shared without saying a word. 

For years, we cooked together, ate together, and talked for countless hours about recipes, cookbooks, and our loves of fat back, Coke in bottles, and Nathalie Dupree. One of her finest days was when Mama brought her to cook with Nathalie and me in the very kitchen she’d seen on television so many times. Simply by sharing a stove, she taught me how imperative the act of cooking can be to a state of real happiness. Being blessed with the gift of sharing the moment when her soul went Home seemed natural and was the ultimate last chapter in our long story together. 

My parents and I were with her all day, talking of everything we could think to say. We tried to fill the empty air with subjects that would keep all of our minds off the fact that her death was eminent. We talked about food, work, family, friends, and memories of days gone by. The nurses kept coming in and out, checking Tom’s pulse and blood pressure, which of course reminded us of why we were all there. 

A family friend, Jane Knowles, came in to visit Tom one last time. She held Tom’s hand, stroked her hair, and sang Holy Ground with a voice that was nothing short of an angel’s. It was during this magnificent song that Tom left us and went on to meet the Lord she so dearly loved. It’s as if she waited for Jane and her hymn to say goodbye to all of us. Recalling these few minutes of witnessing my Tom drift away leaves me short on words and overflowing with tears. 

In memory of Tom and her life so very well lived, I share her fried chicken recipe that has brought me comfort hundreds of times. It is with her skillet that I cook on and never forget.

Tom’s Fried Chicken

1 (3.5 pound) whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces

1/4 cup salt

1 1/2 cups vegetable shortening

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1 cup all-purpose flour 

Place the chicken in a large mixing bowl. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup salt and cover with cold water. Soak the chicken for 45 minutes.  

Remove the chicken from the salt water and drain on paper towels. 

Heat the shortening in an 8-inch cast iron skillet or a large deep skillet to about 360 degrees. 

Sprinkle the chicken with 1 teaspoon salt and pepper.  Coat each piece completely with flour, shake off the excess and gently place the chicken in the hot shortening.  Fry 10 to 12 minutes per side or until golden brown, about 25 minutes total. Fry chicken in batches to prevent the skillet from becoming crowded.  

Check the temperature of the oil occasionally.  If the oil is too hot, the chicken will be too brown on the outside but not fully cooked through.

Drain fried chicken on a cooling rack placed over a rimmed baking sheet. 

Serves 4

Copyright 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved. Visit www.rebeccalangcooks.com for more information.

  

A Mother's Love with a Side of Buttermilk Waffles

I have written about my grandmothers countless times, but very rarely do I write about my own mother. I no longer have my grandmothers and writing about them is the way I stay connected. Sa died long before I was old and smart enough to appreciate her presence and really deeply know her as an adult. Parkinson’s disease stole her from all of us. Tom passed away nearly in perfect health at the age of 100.

Mama is Tom’s daughter. (I don’t like the use of past tense for family. Even if a mother is no longer living, her child is still her child.) My mother goes by many names: Mama, Mandy, Mom, and Mimi and she is nothing short of my saving grace each day.

I often take her for granted, as many children do their mother. Until I became a mother six years ago, I had no comprehension of a mother’s love. I'd always heard of the depth of it and had a real respect for it, but honestly still had no clue. The very moment I laid eyes on my own child, I knew. I firmly believe that until you become a mother, you cannot truly grasp the all-encompassing, overwhelming strength of a mother’s love. Just like most mothers in the world, I would die without a second’s thought for either of my children, no questions asked. I love them unconditionally and passionately. Now, I know this is the love that my mother has for my sister and me.

Mama is giving, sometimes slightly shy (unless she is with those she knows well and then her big personality shines), loving, a gifted teacher, and a true friend. She spent 29 years of her life racing to school before the sun came up to teach second grade. She has an immense love for where she came from and my dad is still her center. As a daughter and her friend, I can say, I’m proud of her and who she is.

We don’t share the love of cooking but we share something much greater - a love of my children. I would trust her with them in any situation and know they love her nearly like they love me. I could not write an article, much less a cookbook, without her in the background keeping my family running and on track.

Mama is at my house several days each week to help me with my children. She is my shadow that is the helping hand in all I do. I am so grateful I don’t have a nanny or a long list of babysitters to spend valuable time with my children. I have my mama. She is someone that loves them wholeheartedly and relishes every second with them. A lifetime of Thank You's would not be enough.

None of us should wait until Mother’s Day to thank and appreciate our mothers. In several ways, all days are made possible by mothers everywhere. For the holiday, I'm hoping to start the day with homemade waffles, tell Mama how much I care, snuggle my babies as long as they'll let me, and squeeze in a nap or two.  

Soft Buttermilk Waffles

Makes 8 Belgian-sized waffles

Tom would make big batches of her waffles for us to keep in the freezer at our house. The soft, fluffy waffles would be stored for morning cravings or afternoon snacks. I still prefer my waffles soft like hers. When the steam stops coming out of the waffle maker, the waffles are ready.

The waffles can be frozen for up to 2 months by placing sheets of wax paper in between each one and sealing them in a resealable plastic freezer bag. Place the frozen waffles directly in the toaster for 2 to 3 minutes, or until toasted and lightly browned.

1/4 cup unsalted butter

2 tablespoons Crisco shortening

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup sugar

1 large egg

1 cup milk

3/4 cup buttermilk

Preheat a Belgian waffle maker according to the manufacturer’s directions.

Combine the butter and shortening in a microwave-safe measuring cup. Melt them in the microwave, about 45 seconds.

Combine the flour, baking soda, salt, and sugar in a large mixing bowl.

Whisk the egg, milk, and buttermilk together in a medium mixing bowl and stir into the dry ingredients. Slowly pour the melted butter and shortening into the batter.

Lightly spray the heated waffle maker with nonstick cooking spray. Pour half (about 2 cups) of the batter in the waffle maker. Cook according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Repeat with the remaining 2 cups of batter.

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Lang Cooks, LLC. All rights reserved.  

Recipe from Quick-Fix Southern by Rebecca Lang, Andrews McMeel Publishing 2011

www.rebeccalangcooks.com