Tuesday, December 2, 2014

That Rolling Pin

Okay, so I know I just recently wrote about my first pie made, and here I'm making the exact same one (round two).  But, as I was making this one for Thanksgiving, I was thinking about a whole lot more than what we would consume the next day.

When I first got married (a little over five years ago), I received a package in the mail from a woman from home.  Her daughters used to babysit my siblings and me, but we didn't keep in touch.  Opening the box, I saw a marble rolling pin with a wooden holder.  On it was inscribed "gourmet kitchen."  I recognized it right away.  It was my late great-grandmother's.
This woman had been friends with her, and she was given the rolling pin.  However, she said that she thought I'd need it now, as a new wife, and that she knew it would mean a lot to me.  It did.

My great-grandmother was a tough lady.  Kind, and as good as can be, but tough.  She lived on a ranch miles from town and cooked daily for the men and children.  My grandmother told me they had a weekly rotation of food, usually including a big pot of beans made on Monday, bread, meat, potatoes, and other staples.  She always had more than enough for anyone who might pop in, and that happened more than you'd think.
I remember meeting her in town on Wednesdays.  That was the day she would get her hair done (and sometimes nails!), and we'd all have lunch at the local Mexican food restaurant.

I know she could make a mean pie with this rolling pin.  And, she lacked all of the conveniences that we have today in our kitchens.
More love went into the food preparation then...I'm not talking of love in the form of making something special for the ones you are cooking for, but instead more work.  They didn't have food processors or microwaves.  They did more by hand.
I'm thankful for that.  I'm thankful to have known and loved someone who could teach me (even as a small child) the beauty of the daily sacrifices made as a wife and mother.

I think I'll start making pies more...not because we need them...but because it's an act of love, and a constant reminder of one whom I loved as I carefully roll out the crust.
Her name was Lily.  Lily Mary.  And, she was tough.


  1. Beautiful! :)
    Whenever I bake in the kitchen, I think of my Memere... It's true. Baking for others IS an act of love!