Hi BECKY S,;
Such a lovely story, reminding me ofwatching my Grandma bakestrudeI Danish pastry &cook stuffedcabbage
; Allw/o a written recipe& alcame oout perfectly; again from years ofrepitition
I was always amazed@ how she knew just how to doeach step, even taking things out oftheoven atjusttheright time no oven timerneedexd.Years later I knowhwshe did it; Foods smella certain wayasthey are finished cooking or baking.These daysIcan tell when mybaked custard is done by nose awareness
n Response to My Mother's Hands:
Early mornings come with life on a farm. Mother began our days slipping into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for our family of 10. Her soft movements would awaken me from a light sleep and lure me into the warm kitchen. Sitting on the high kitchen stool I quietly watched her prepare biscuits from scratch. Her smooth movements honed from years of repetition would mesmerize my sleepy eyes. I felt warm and relaxed in our rare quiet time together. I watched her measure the ingredients by sight, knead the dough, and "pinch" off each biscuit for the waiting baking sheets. Each biscuit seemed to magically appear out of her strong, beautiful hands. Each one was exactly the same size and shape except the baby one she sometimes made especially for me. Now some fifty years later warm feelings of comfort and love sustain me as I remember my Mother's Hands.
Posted by Becky S