My Grandma Grady was born in 1869, the same year the Trans-Continental Railroad was completed with that famous golden spike. (Yes..I guess that makes ME officially OLD.)
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| Anna Sophia Grady…My Grandma |
Grandma used to tell AWESOME stories…tales of Indian tribes camping down by the river, and about peddlers who would come door to door in horse-drawn wagons…selling whatever the housewives needed at the time. It was amazing to learn history lessons from a woman who had LIVED them!
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| Alfred Newell Grady…My Grandpa |
Grandpa Grady died in 1929, so he is still more of a mystery to me, but Grandma Grady lived to be almost 100. She died when I was a teenager, so I was fortunate to spend many happy days with her when I was a child. I remember she LOVED good food, and her kitchen and dining room were the hub for all activity for the whole Grady clan. And when relatives from other states arrived for a visit with Grandma Grady, the cooking, eating and the laughter began. So many great memories were created around that big dining room table.. And if unexpected company arrived? No problem! Grandma could ALWAYS make room for one more…a trait she passed down to my Mom. My Mom was the ultimate hostess…just like her mother before her.
One thing I’ll always remember about Grandma’s kitchen was a little stainless steel pot with a lid. Inside the pot was a built-in strainer. The little pot was ALWAYS on Grandma’s stove. The purpose of that container was plain to see, since there were BIG letters on it that said GREASE. (I’m guessing some of you are old enough to remember those little pots too.)
In those days, nothing was wasted. So when meat was cooked, the fat was poured off into the container. Any bits or pieces in the skillet were caught in the strainer, and the “pure” grease was collected in the pot. That fat was then used to fry other things, like eggs, potatoes, etc. And I will admit the end result tasted DELICIOUS. In fact, my Mom had one of those containers too…just like Grandma’s. (Another cooking technique passed down through generations.) And it’s funny…nobody I knew ever died from that unrefrigerated GREASE pot…or from any other “unsafe” cooking techniques practiced during those days. Interesting…
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| My Mom, (4th from Left) Memorial Day Program, Kalona, Iowa |
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| My Dad and Mom |
So the other day, I was frying bacon…and I decided to save those drippings and use them in some dishes so I could remember that flavor…the yummy one from Grandma’s kitchen. I strained the drippings through a strainer so I was left with that pure, liquid-gold bacon fat…just like my Grandma’s…and my Mom’s.
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