There is a tradition in Southern cooking of recipes handed down for generations. And when I make my grandmother's strawberry pie - she is gone on now - I feel her right with me.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
In the South, I think, food mirrors our lives. When I was growing up, no matter what you were grieving or celebrating, my mama would be at the door with a cake or a pie.
Few people know this about me, but I love baking pies.
I am a Southern girl at heart, so I have a pulled pork sandwich and Key lime pie every day. It's a problem.
My grandmother was a typical farm-family mother. She would regularly prepare dinner for thirty people, and that meant something was always cooking in the kitchen. All of my grandmother's recipes went back to her grandmother.
My parents traveled a lot, so my grandparents practically raised me. My grandmother and I really bonded in the kitchen. She's this amazing southern cook, and I would always help her - whether it was cracking eggs or stirring the green beans. It takes me back there.
My mom makes something called green pie, which I thought was a delicacy that many people only had at Thanksgiving, but it turns out it was just Jell-O with whipped cream on it. And it's delicious.
I don't enjoy eating humble pie; it never tastes good. But I do appreciate it when it happens.
I like to make pies. That's kind of my new obsession - peach, blueberry, apple, strawberry. I make a really good pumpkin pie with real pumpkin.
I've always been a foodie. My grandmother got me hooked on cooking.
Everyone's past is locked up in their recipes - the past of an individual and the past of a nation as well.
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