“On days when warmth is the most important need of the human heart, the kitchen is the place you can find it.” — E.B. White
Here in my kitchen, I was bustling away whipping up another batch of Scottish shortbread. If you were to pass by, you’d think I was alone, but I don’t feel alone.
This very simple shortbread recipe has been passed down through multiple generations on the maternal side of my family. I remember my mother making shortbread, my grandmother making shortbread. Years and years of those wonderful smells coming from their ovens.
There are more complicated recipes for shortbread but this family recipe is super simple, just flour/sugar/butter, coming together quickly. The recipe has an ancient feel and appearance about it…multiple generations relying on its goodness using basic ingredients.
Special in its simplicity.
Recipes in the person’s handwriting are treasures in themselves.
Many other recipes from my mother include her meatloaf and its special sauce, this one copied in my hand over the phone in the early weeks of my marriage. That meatloaf was a favorite of my husband. I needed to have the recipe.
My grandmother’s tattie soup made with potatoes, rutabaga, shredded carrots and stew beef…such a winter comfort. My favorite soup ever, the smells of it cooking, oh, my. The recipe says, “a large bowl of diced potatoes…” It helps that I clearly remember her large white pottery bowl.
And my mother-in-law’s made-from-scratch brownies, whipped up in a minute or two with on-hand ingredients…nothing special but quick and easy yum.
She copied her recipe for toll house cookies for me. No one could make the cookies taste just like hers. Her recipe from the toll house package included her slight modification. She ensured that my toll house cookies would taste like hers. Some things are very important.
In-law Grammy Harris, an exceptional cook with breakfasts and fried chicken specialties, also made the family’s favorite cake, banana, from scratch, of course. From scratch is a lot of work but in using boxed mixes, we can tell the difference in many ways.
Friends fill my kitchen, too, with their recipes and heads-up about foods.Each morning blueberries go on my oatmeal since a friend told me years ago how she discovered how good fresh blueberries were and how they benefit health. I agree.
Her oatmeal cake with its moist spicy texture and broiled brown sugar and coconut topping became my favorite. It is one of her favorites, too. The recipe in her own handwriting.
Another friend is a grand cook, intimidating even. Her dinner parties are always memorable. One time when she was hosting a party, I headed to her kitchen to see if I could help. Of course not, she’s super organized. But as always a learning experience.
I already had her chicken recipe but that night she was serving the chicken over spaghetti…well, not spaghetti, angel hair pasta. I had seen boxes of angel hair on supermarket shelves, but I always used regular spaghetti, al dente in ten to eleven minutes. She prefers angel hair’s al dente in three or four minutes. I was an instant fan of “al dente in three or four minutes” and since then have used no other kind of spaghetti. Thanking her for the efficiency of it always.
A friend and I are known to love, love, love, love cups of hot tea. In Scotland, we’d be called “Tea Jennys.” She introduced me to PGTips tea years ago before its rise in popularity here. I think of her every time, many times a day, when I brew a cuppa Tips.
Then there are the utensils and dishes. Grammy Harris’s wooden-handled cooking fork, Grandma’s serving pieces which traveled with her when the family relocated from Scotland to Northern Kentucky in 1921. Serving pieces now have served five generations. My favorite is the gravy boat, the one piece kept in the kitchen cabinets so I can see it often.
A set of small reddish-brown bowls were a gift from my home-stay hostesses during my 1985 fellowship in Japan. My family continues to use the bowls for salads, fruit, desserts, snacks. The gift came as a traditional Japanese set of five. A reminder to enjoy the food with all five senses.
Alone in my kitchen? Never. There is too much goodness surrounding me there.
And in your kitchen? Your family and friends? Never really alone when wrapped in warm memories.
ODE to MY KITCHEN
Step into my kitchen,
It’s cozy and warm,
Aromas invite you,
Is that its real charm?
What’s cooking? you ask,
What’s smelling so fine?
It’s recipe history
Passed down a long line.
There are special folks
Who people this place
You might not really see them
But they exude Peace and Grace.
There’s my mom and his mom,
And especially the grans
Recipes spanning generations,
Passed down through the clans.
My friends are here, too;
Make no mistake,
A friend’s pasta, another’s tea,
And another’s oatmeal cake.
So here in my kitchen
We’re surrounded, it’s clear;
Precious family and dear friends,
Remain ever near.
— JJH/Jan 2025
Judy Harris is well established in Northern Kentucky life, as a longtime elementary and university educator. A graduate of Thomas More, she began her career there in 1980 where she played a key role in teacher education and introduced students to national and international travel experiences. She has traveled and studied extensively abroad. She enjoys retirement yet stays in daily contact with university students.