Food

Once upon a time I read an article which said that scent was the strongest trigger of memory. Certainly, it seems so with me. There is nothing which evokes stronger memories of my childhood than waking up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking.

My father and both my grandfathers would rather drink coffee than any other beverage. And breakfast was the best meal ever when we went to grandma's house. There is just something about bacon and eggs and fried potatoes and pancakes (with homemade hot syrup), served with orange juice and cold milk and hot coffee. Yum! My Dad's absolute favorite was biscuits and gravy.

Grandma LeCrone made her own jellies and preserves: wild plum, grape, apricot. Pa would often eat "corn cakes" with jelly and milk. Corn cakes were like pancakes, but made with a mixture of regular flour and corn flour.

Both my grandmothers were outstanding down-home cooks. Grandma Kear could make the finest fried chicken you've ever sunk your teeth into. She would follow it up with a Dr. Pepper float "better than the drugstore makes" for dessert. Grandma LeCrone's specialty was roast beef. She could make a roast beef with potatoes, carrots, and gravy like nobody's business. And she would follow it up with a chocolate cake for dessert. This chocolate cake was covered with an icing that was hard and luscious. The level of sugar and caffeine in a slice of that cake and a cup of coffee must have been astronomical.

My mother is also a great cook. She can make a great roast, the best fried potatoes in the land, and a large array of stews and chilis. She also makes the best desserts anywhere. She makes a cranberry salad for the holidays that we all just call "the pink stuff." If she happens to really love me, she will also make this pineapple dessert that tastes so good and contains enough sugar to put a lesser man into a coma.

I remember the times my mother would make fried potatoes. After she would put them in a dish to set on the supper table, you could always find my Dad in the kitchen scraping the "crispies" out of the bottom of the frying pan and munching on them. He did the same thing with meat loaf.

My sister inherited the best of both sides of the family. She is hands-down the best cook of us all. She can make any meal special. She knows how to make the best desserts. She can make candy and pies and cakes and fancy things. And she passed on her abilities to my niece, Lisa.

My specialty is chili. I have no set recipe. I always use fresh red New Mexico chile. It's always too hot for everyone but me.

When I was a little kid, we were not affluent at all. Going out to eat was a big deal. One of our favorites was going to the A & W Rootbeer stand. Dad would get a Papa Burger and a big mug. Mom would get a Mama Burger and a mug, Cindy and I would get Kiddie Burgers and Kiddie mugs (this is before Davy came along). I also fondly (but vaguely) remember eating at the Gold Spot dairy in Enid, Oklahoma.

One of the neatest things about my childhood was that Grandma and Pa LeCrone owned the cafe in Meno, Oklahoma. Talk about heaven! We could go in and order anything that we wanted! Cheeseburgers and French Fries and Homemade Chocolate Malts! Oh, my! They pattied the fresh ground beef themselves. They would toast the buns on the griddle. All the veggies were fresh cut. The malts were made with fresh dipped ice cream in one of those big metal containers, and then poured into a huge, heavy, frosty glass. They would leave the metal container so you could refill your glass.

Coffee is the greatest. It is an ever-present link with my ancestors. The daily aroma brings the memories of my grandfathers and my father to me. Good memories. Happy memories. And so I lift my cup to them.