Like Mama Used To Make

In my case, its more, Like Oma Used To Make. If I can tell you a story about a courageous yet somewhat timid woman...it would have to be my Grandma. Coming from Germany to Canada being young as well as having a two young children herself, not speaking a speck of English and dropped into a society all by herself. She managed to survive, learn English and raise her family to what we are today. If all her blood and sweat and most defiantly tears never happened, I would not be here today.

I have been very fortunate to grow up with my Grandma, not too many people get to know their elders in a way I did. From a very young age I have always spent lots of quality time and lots of snuggles with her. I loved going to her house, with the smells of cooking and lots of love. I feel very close with her and I feel a little bit of her old fashioned ways have really stuck with me. I have always loved having people over to entertain and filling their tummy's with good things. Which has led me to this interesting part in my life. I have always wanted to do canning like my Grandma. From pickles to jam, beets to peaches...she did it all. I admired her for working hard over the stove on a hot day...just to make homemade goods for her family. We would literally fight who got the last jar of chili sauce or dill pickles. Cabbage rolls...damn that was another good one. She would make hundreds of these rolls and freeze them, only to be yanked up with visits from her own children and then the grandchildren. Every chance I get I try to make whatever she made. The tastes of my childhood I cannot let slip under the carpet. She has since stopped making her jarred goodies, hence my turn to grab the bull by the horn and do it myself.



This year I have tried to make jam...successful and gave myself 2nd degree burns in the process. Last night I tried my Grandmas pickled beets...again successful, no burns this time. This weekend my mom and I are trying the dill pickles. The girls and I went to the market yesterday and bought bushels of cucumbers and they are sitting in the cold basement ready to be transformed. Reese always asks when we go to the grocery store, "Mom! Mom! can you get some pickles pleeeease?". She is a feen for the green monsters. I always tell her that we are going to make them ourselves...and now we will. I have also gone as far as learning from other families. Last year I learned how to make tomato sauce right from the perfect source. My Italian family! They opened their arms and took me under their wings. Teaching me every step of the way their very own traditions. I also did my sausage with them, cutting up a whole pig and tasting homemade prosciutto. I love the fact that each family has their own traditions and it really is all about family. Everyone pitches in and has a great time in the process. I hope to make more delicious tomato sauce with them again this year.



I had also started a small vegetable garden in pots this year to see if I had a green thumb before I upgraded to a large scale garden. Each day I show Reese the new tomatoes or green peppers growing and I see her appreciation for it seeing food grow. All those times my grandma would sit with me and show me the secrets to her spaghetti sauce or other dishes I would sit intently and listen. Now I see Reese doing the same thing. I want her to grow up and realise she can do anything she wants, whatever her heart tells her. I think about my Grandma when I have finished up some canning and think how I can make her proud and I think I do. I think the thought of someone carrying on her tradition really makes her happy. I also like that I am able to share this with my own daughters...I really wanted daughters. (After TONS of brothers you really don't want to go down that road again)



Thank you Grandma for sharing your love for food to me and the rest of your family. It has truly made me who I am and I am grateful for being able to have had you teach me everything I know. I promise to carry on this tradition and always always think of you in the process.