Nee's Cupboard LLC

When I was young, I used to watch my Grandmother…we called her “MaMa”. I spent many a summer at MaMa & PaPa’s house. We literally did EVERYTHING together. We shopped, tended the garden, cleaned, decorated, sang, listened to the news, went to church, took walks, cooked, baked…EVERYTHING! She taught me so much that I’ll never forget. She was silly, she was smart, she was strong. MaMa was my second Mother. My real Mom was just like her. I miss them both dearly. They were my all!

MaMa loved to spend time in the kitchen. She tended a huge garden(it looked huge when I was growing up). Now, when I look at it, I see that it’s a decent size, but I wonder how in the world she fed all of us with that rectangle of dirt. She canned, jellied, froze, pickled, dehydrated, vacuum packed and served everyone delicious fresh food every day. I don’t recall a single veggie that she bought in a can, unless it was creamed corn.

While she was in the kitchen, I was her ‘shadow’. I sometimes stood beside her, watching and learning. I sometimes sat on the “family stool”-that 20+grand- and great-grandchildren sat on and watched from the corner. I made mental notes of her techniques, watched additions and changes that she made to recipes, how she stirred the pot; I didn’t want to miss a thing!

I would often sit in the middle of the kitchen floor, searching through her cookbooks in the bottom of her cupboards, writing down her favorite recipes-you know the one’s-that every Grandma, Aunt, Cousin, Mom, etc. passes around and down through the family-the one’s that show up at every Holiday table. That’s where you could find me every summer. In my favorite space, where I could be me-a nerdy kid-that LOVED all things about the kitchen. I loved to learn-I’m sure that I got that from my Mom-she read EVERYTHING that she possibly could and learned as much as she could about anything and everything. I could say that I am just like her. I need to know a lot about everything, not to be a know-it-all, but to be educated. I never liked to be in the dark about anything.

Recipes: breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, appetizers, bread. Bread. Warm, golden, delicious, loaded with butter-the real stuff. She baked her own bread and rolls often. She spent many a weekend baking, filling the whole house with the wonderful smell of bread. I watched her every move, how she mixed the dough-by hand-yes, by hand. She kneaded the dough-not overworking it, just ensuring that it was smooth. I watched how she covered the bowl with plastic and a tea towel. I remember that plastic was “if you needed to give the dough a ‘boost’ and get it moving”. If it was warm outside, she only used the tea towel, as “the temperature was all the ‘help’ that the dough needed”. I was vigilant as she cut and shaped the dough-bread or rolls. She never weighed her dough, but they ALWAYS came out the same exact size. I never understood how she did that, but as I grew older-I now get it. You just “feel it”. You just “know it”. Years of practice. She definitely had it. And I thought that she was magic. She was, in fact, amazing!

So now, I let my her (and the rest of my ancestors) whisper in my ear while I’m in the kitchen, “that’s enough child” and it turns out fantastic every time.

Needless to say, I’ve been living in my kitchen lately (which is why it’s been a minute). I’m on a “bread kick”. I started baking bread again and it gives me such satisfaction (& a bigger waistline). The feel of the dough, the smell of it before, during and after. Working the dough, watching it come together. The rising, the baking. The wonderful way the smell fills every crack and crevice in the house, reminding me of the comfort and warmth that was in the kitchen that I grew up in. The hands that I watched, the voice in my ear from time to time. I remember her. And the wonderful memories that go with it.

I don’t recall her baking sourdough very much. I’ve been working a lot with my starter-I call her ‘Linda’ and when she doesn’t act right…yes, I say it, “Listen Linda!” And I give her a good ‘feed’ and she straightens right up. LOL! I also bake French baguettes, Italian bread, Ciabatta, Focaccia, Naan and many others. I’m more adventurous than MaMa or Mom. They served our family the ‘staples’. We never lacked or wanted for anything. They just stuck to what they knew because it worked. I loved it and was never disappointed, after all, bread was my “dessert”-it had to be buttered end-to-end, making sure to cover every single bit. I was just different. I craved more knowledge, more variety, more than what they were doing.

It now serves me well, as I feed my family. They are ‘foodies’ just like me-always looking for great places, with great food. And, when I bake bread-they ‘load up’ on the good stuff! They love “real” food, authentic makes, and fresh bread. Mmmmmmmmm! (Just like their Mom!)

Thanks for reading and sharing in my journey. If there is a topic you’d like for me to cover, or a story you’d like to hear, you can always send me an email at nees.cupboard@gmail.com or leave me a comment below,

We’ll talk soon friends!

With love,

Renée