//////////////////////////////////// Whitney's Memories////////////////////////////////////
About ten months ago I lost the most important person in my life, my grandmother.
I wish that I could still call her to ask what temperature to bake a pork chop at. I wish I could still taste-test her summer salads in the shining light of her kitchen. I wish I could steal spoonfuls of her mashed potatoes before Christmas dinner. More than any of this, I wish she was here to see what Bethany and I are doing with our blog.
Like most people, I truly believe that my grandmother was the best cook in the entire world. There is something about the love and dedication of a grandmother that is apparent in every meal, no matter how big or small. Maybe it is all the years of experience or the copious amounts of butter, but my Grandma's recipes were always the best.
Next to this recipe box, that was weighty with memories and love, sat an empty recipe box. I'm not sure if my grandmother had used it at one time or if it had sat empty somewhere in her house for years but inside there was only dust. As I looked at the two boxes side-by-side, I couldn't help but laugh. That empty recipe box was me- young, naive, and new in the kitchen.
I'm not always sure what I believe in but I know that it was some sort of sign from my grandmother. I still had a thing or two to learn from her and she was bound and determined I would. I asked my parents for the empty recipe box and for permission to copy some of her recipes. I hope that one day my life, and recipe box, will be as full of love, good memories, and great food as my grandmother's was.
//////////////////////////////////// Bethany's Stories ////////////////////////////////////
I grew up the youngest of five children and I have FOUR older brothers. So yes, I was spoiled. Growing up our family was far from functioning as a normal family.
I wont go into detail but our parents made our whole family a clown family. Yes, you read that right, a clown family. One Christmas I was finally old enough to drink sparkling grape juice out of a crystal glass and immediately bit into the glass leaving tiny bits of crystal in my mouth, and I did it again the very next year. Countless times my brothers used me as a punching bag or worse, one of their soldiers-in-training under my brother the drill sergeant. I was a wild child running around the neighborhood like I owned the place, knocking on doors in full clown costume asking if the other kids wanted to play.
Even though we were a wild at heart family, my mom always made us eat dinner together. I cherish those moments; I truly believe it made us a stronger family. That recipe box you see is full of memories for me, meals spent side-by-side, crammed onto one table with all my brothers.
I am so proud of where I came from- I have a supporting family who is still outrageous in their own special way. I can't wait to pull more recipes out of that box to make with my mother for the people I love the most, for many years to come.
We created The Twenty-Something's Table because we truly believe in the power of cooking, good food, and a table shared with family and friends.
We all have our own recipe box, whether it is a binder full of magazine clippings and scribbled favorites or a an extremely organized computer database. Our hope with this post is to share with you our inspiration in the kitchen and where the heart of The Twenty-Something's Table comes from. We also want to throw a spark into your kitchen, stirring you to search for the inspiration behind your meals.
As always, much love from your twenty-something ladies-
Whit & Beth