My love of cooking began many generations ago when my ancestors settled in the south. The earliest memories of true Southern cooking I have are from my mother's parents, Delma Aileen Ragan (Wall) and William Earl Ragan, otherwise known as Mammy and Dada. My grandfather was a WWII veteran who vowed when he returned from the war to never leave his home again and that was a promise he kept. He and my grandmother settled down in the little community of Woods Valley in Dickson County, Tennessee.
Dada tended to his black angus cattle farm and a huge garden full of wonderful fruits and vegetables that I enjoyed helping him pick/ dig up as a child. One of my most fond memories with my grandfather was picking raspberries and blackberries the plentiful bushes he grew; I was supposed to put them in the pail my grandmother had given me but I instead decided it was more fun to eat the delicious berries. My grandfather came around the corner to see what I was doing, had a great chuckle and told me, "Keep picking the berries Red, Mammy is going to be making homemade preserves." When hearing this I stopped my munching and started picking again.
I may be bias but in the time I spent out at my grandparents, I thoroughly enjoyed the blackberry preserves my grandmother made; I did not like to eat any someone else had made. We had a tradition every morning for breakfast, you were to mix your butter and preserves together and spread that yummy goodness over your toast. As I grew up I always enjoyed our breakfast morning tradition, it was not until I was in college did I realize how much the little things I did with my grandmother meant so much to me. During my freshman year of college I was homesick and all I wanted was to be close to my family. I took a trip to the grocery and picked up a jar of blackberry preserves...granted it was NOT my grandmother's but it would do the trick to sooth my aching heart.
Speaking of my grandmother, my Mammy was the greatest cook of all time. She was one of those cooks who did not leave a recipe book for her children and grandchildren to fight over having the prized family recipes. She cooked from her heart and her soul. I can remember as a child pulling up a chair to the kitchen counter and standing in the chair to see what I could do to help with dinner (known to other folks as lunch) or supper (dinner).
My other inspiration for cooking has been my mother, Pam. Mammy and Dada did a wonderful job raising such a wonderful person who I get to call my mom. She taught me that cooking is fun, not something you have to do. Without her encouragement to continue to experiment with cooking I probably would not love cooking as much as I do.
So to finish off my story, I hope you enjoy my blog about the food I love to cook. I don't feel like I have to cook a certain way to please; my food is cooked from the love in my heart and the fire in my belly to enjoy my creations!! Hope you enjoy the recipes and stories I share, please share with your family any recipes you love, that's how we make memories that are cherish forever.
-Emily
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