Tag: recipe

Core memory?

julieannetaylor

I am absolutely fascinated by how the brain – my brain – works. By how one tiniest little thing can trigger memories that are so vivid and strong. Memories that seem so minute and even trivial can be conjured up by the smallest thought about something else.

This morning I was going through my normal Saturday morning routine. I had journaled and completed my devotional and was moving on to my first task of the day – meal planning and groceries. It’s something I do every Saturday morning. Since I have conferences this week, Chris is going to cook two nights this week. Thankfully he’s cooking a meal he and the girls love – and I won’t be home to eat it, because honestly I hate it. He lists all the ingredients he needs for his Swedish meatballs and I add them to my list. While ordering all of my groceries I came to one of his items – French Onion Soup. The instant I typed those words into my Kroger search bar, I was flooded with a memory from my childhood. A fond memory (that had nothing to do with Swedish meatballs!) I was transported back to my parents kitchen. My sister and I were sitting at the table and my daddy was doing the cooking. I could smell the goodness coming from the stove where he worked. When he turned around to bring the food to the table, we were so excited. Daddy had made French Onion soup – like the real deal – in individual crocks for us. The cheese on top was slightly browned and bubbling. As we dug into it we came to the next layer – the crusty bread – that was hiding in a rich, onion-filled broth. It was the first time I had ever had French Onion soup and I have loved it ever since. I can still see those brown crocks that held our soup. I can still feel the slight sting of the hot cheese as it strung from my bowl, over my spoon and messily landing on my chin. This dinner was not a special occasion dinner. It was just a random weeknight when, for some reason, my daddy was cooking. There was nothing memorable about this date on the calendar.

I have not thought about that meal made by my daddy in a very long time. But the simple act of ordering a can of soup today brought that dinner to my mind in an instant. And I’m so thankful it did. I don’t know why that meal, those moments have stuck with me, and why they came back in a rush today. Perhaps that is, for some reason, a core memory that I have held onto. I’m just in awe of how the brain stores memories and then releases them when a hint of them comes to mind. Because today, that memory turned a mundane task that often I gripe about into a few quiet moments to soak in a happy moment from my childhood. Totally unexpected, but so so appreciated.

Edit to add: I understand that “core memories” are not rooted in science, and that the term actually became popular from a Pixar movie. However, I do think that for some reason, this particular memory held some sort of special emotional value to me for it to re-surface in the way that it did. With such vividness and clarity. With so much emotion attached to it. So, yeah, Pixar or not, science or not, for me this was a core memory.

Family is Everything

julieannetaylor

Jodie, Janette, mom, and I had been planning for weeks for the big party for Papa. We had shared multiple messages about the decorations, the guest list, and of course, the food. We were all super excited that the baby, Janette, was able to fly down to be with us to celebrate. The anticipation for the big event was building.

On the Friday before the party we had planned a shopping trip to Costco to buy all of the food we needed for the party. Carty joined us for our girls’ day, and the five of us set out early to run all of the errands together. I cannot remember the last time we were all able to spend an entire day together like that. We laughed, cried, bickered, and teased ourselves through the morning as we loaded up with way more food than we really needed. The plan was to shop early and then spend the afternoon prepping food. Jodie had found our grandmother’s recipe for Waikiki Meatballs and the plan was to attempt to make them just like Edith used to. We followed her hand written recipe to the letter. As we worked through each step, we shared stories of our sweet Grandma, and teased each other that “that’s not how Edith would have done it.”

As we sat at the table rolling dozens and dozens of meatballs, we tried to remember the last time Grandma had made them for us. We decided it had been over seventeen years! Every Christmas Eve we would gather at Grandma’s house. She would have her house decorated beautifully. The table would be set with flowers and candles. And every year, in addition to a wide variety of finger foods, Grandma would always serve up a big batch of her Waikiki Meatballs. I can remember it like it was yesterday. She would serve us on her small, delicate, crystal plates. Matching crystal cups surrounded a large punch bowl. I remember thinking how “fancy” it all was.

The smell of them flooded the room, and my senses as my sister Jodie cooked. It is amazing to me how the brain works. As they cooked up, I was taken back to all of those Christmas Eve celebrations in an instant. All of us remarked how they smelled just like when Grandma made them. But the anticipation for whether they would taste the same continued to grow. Finally we couldn’t wait a minute longer. As soon as the taste filled my mouth, tears began to spill from my eyes. They tasted exactly like my Grandma had made them. It filled me with so much nostalgia. I felt joy as I remembered what an amazing woman my Grandmother was. I felt so sad that she was no longer around to share life with. I felt excitement that we had the recipe and could continue making it for our families.

As we carried on our work of preparing for the party, we shared so many memories. Memories of our Grandmother. Stories about our childhood and trips we had taken together. And it all started with that recipe. We were enjoying our time together so much that we turned it into a slumber party. We perused through hundreds of pictures. We shared storied. We snacked (occasionally sneaking a meatball or two when Jodie wasn’t looking). We decorated. We stayed up way into the way laughing and talking.

This time with my mom and sisters is priceless and I will never forget this weekend. The party was amazing and it was so good to see all of the people who came out to love on my daddy. But if I’m being completely honest, the unexpected highlight of the weekend was the time spend and memories created with my sisters and mom. I will cherish those forever. Our family has been through a really rough time over the last year. Even though we are so very different and at times those differences cause us to bicker and fuss, we are still family. And family is everything. I’m so thankful that my daddy is still around to celebrate his eightieth birthday. I’m thankful that his birthday created a weekend for my sisters and mom to be together. And I’m even more thankful for Grandma’s Waikiki Meatballs, and that old handwritten recipe.