As a writer, I rely heavily on my memory to help me make connections between food, my past and my heritage. Or maybe it’s more likely that I depend on food to help me make connections between my memories, my heritage and the present. What I am sure of is that food memories are powerful. Whether the memory is triggered by sight, smell, feel or taste, it can be as strong as a lightening bolt and jar a memory that may have been hidden for years.
My grandmother was my inspiration for cooking and taught me to appreciate good food prepared in a simple, unpretentious fashion such as this Egg Custard Pie. My mother had a love and appreciation for good food but her interest gravitated toward the eatin’ part much more than the cookin’ part. Most of my food memories revolve around my grandmother and her kitchen table. I do have a special food memory that stars my mother. It’s all about potatoes. Not about how she cooked potatoes but how she prepared them.
The process never varied: wash, scrub, peel, wash, trim. It was as reliable as rain. All the potatoes would be washed first. She would scrub each one with a vegetable brush probably 15 or 2o seconds longer than necessary to remove the dirt. After the washing, it was place in the bottom on the sink. Once they were sufficiently washed to her liking, she would start peeling in rapid fire with a potato peeler. The peeler was rub across the skins away from my mother and the skins would pile up in the sink like fallen logs. Despite the thorough cleaning prior to peeling, each one got an additional washing after. A small stream of water was left to run from the faucet for this purpose. Next, she would grab a peeled, washed and rewashed orb, hold it in her hand while turning it around to inspect for any blemishes. With a paring knife in hand, she would methodically remove any blemish, even the tiniest ones that would probably never be noticed. I never knew of my mother to be so meticulous about anything in any aspect of her life as she was her potatoes. Sadly, I never asked her why it was important for her to pay such close attention to the potatoes and constantly produce the perfect spud. I’m not going to dilute the genuineness of that experience by trying to come up with some cheesy life analogy and failing miserably. My delightful memory deserves better than that and so does my mother’s work.
They say you miss the small things when someone is no longer with you. I can’t disagree with that. Trying to differentiate between what’s big and what’s small seems to get clouded as the vivid memories of a person begins to dim somewhat. Peeling potatoes might be a small thing in the eyes of some. But tonight, as I stood at my sink peeling and preparing the potatoes for tonight’s dinner, it seemed like a big thing. A mighty big thing. I miss you, Mama.
Y’all come see us!
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Buttermilk and Chive Scalloped Potatoes
I first learned to make Scalloped Potatoes in 7th grade home economics class. I’ve been making the dish ever since. The focus of the chapter was white sauce: how to make it and use it. Over the years, I’ve developed and redeveloped this recipe. Tonight’s version is the latest redevelopment. Buttermilk was substituted for half of the regular milk. I’m trying to restore buttermilk’s good name in the eyes of cooks everywhere. I substituted chives for sweet onions.
For white sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoon all purpose flour
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup regular milk
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
Melt butter in pan.
Throw in flour…gently or you’ll make a mess.
Whisk continuously until butter and flour are mixed well and the flour has lost it stark white color. Add 1’2 teaspoon salt and 1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper.
Slowly stir in milk, whisk continuously to prevent lumps. As soon as the sauce starts to thicken, remove from heat.
For potatoes and chives:
5 or 6 medium potatoes, washed, peeled and slice into 1/8 to 14 inch slices
2 tablespoons chopped chives
salt and pepper to taste
My mother did not prepare these potatoes. They’re not perfect.
Slice the potatoes into 1/8 to 1/4 inch slices. Chop the fresh chives that you gathered from your garden.
Place half of the potatoes in the bottom of an oiled or sprayed casserole. Sprinkle chives, salt and pepper on top. The dish that used is an unusual size: 6 1/2 in X 10 in. My mother-in-law gave me this little dish. I just love it because it’s unique. I don’t know that you can even buy that size any longer.
The rest of the potatoes go in next with another light sprinkling of salt and pepper.
Pour white sauce over everything you have in the dish. Cover with aluminum foil, bake at 375 for 30 minutes. Uncover and continue to bake for an additional 30 minutes or until the potatoes are tender and the tops have started to brown. If you find the potatoes are not done to your liking but the top is sufficiently brown, recover them and cook for another 10 minutes and then retest for doneness. 
Finished product.
Mona Stout says
I never cease to be just totally gobsmacked by what memories of such mundane things as this can do to us. We kind of expect to feel a pang at recalling “major” events, holidays and such, or maybe family vacations from years gone by — or even the less momentous but consciously planned times together, like those in the here and now that we tell ourselves are “making memories” for our own children and grandchildren. And they undoubtedly do. But little day-to-day stuff slips under the radar until it suddenly brings to mind a beloved person in such vivid detail that we’re reduced to blubbering messes. Yes, even over potatoes. It’s a lovely tribute to your mama’s memory, Jackie. It’s also reassurance for you that perhaps someday years and years from now, probably when whipping up something in the kitchen, your granddaughter will look down at her hands and realize they’re preparing something exactly as you did … and through the very strong thread that runs from your granny right on down, your love will be remembered, and passed along.
Jackie Garvin says
Mona,
Your very thoughtful words have turned me into a blubbering mess. Thank you so much for your friendship, your heartfelt sentiments and just being you!
Mona Stout says
You’re most welcome, dear friend. And by the way, I also have a 6 1/2 by 10 glass baking dish! It was my gran’s, of course. There’s a heck of a lot of things that “they just don’t make like it any more” and many of them are in my kitchen! Yours too, I’ll bet. <3
Jackie Garvin says
Mona
I’m sometimes afraid to use those treasures because they are irreplaceable.
Glyn Furgurson Pogue says
Thank you for sharing this memory. I also thank you for posting a recipe for a dish that uses buttermilk. I usually buy buttermilk to use for a specific recipe, often a baked good, and then the rest of the carton sits in the back of the fridge for a month until I throw it out. I will definitely try this one out! Anybody else have a (non-baked good) recipe that calls for buttermilk?
Jackie Garvin says
Glyn,
Have you seen my recipes for Chicken and Dumplings and Easy Buttermilk Biscuits? They are both great uses of buttermilk. You can use buttermilk in mashed potatoes, too, to give it a richer flavor. Also, try marinating chicken in buttermilk before cooking. It will make the tenderest, tastiest chicken you’ve ever eaten. If you like catfish, marinate that for about 20 minutes prior to cooking. It takes away the earthy flavor that some folks don’t like about catfish. Le t me know if you need help finding the recipes. They are all on Facebook (www.facebook.com/syrupandbiscuits)
Julia says
Jackie, it never ceases to amaze me just how much we think alike.
I have a one-cup clear pink measuring cup made by the Kellogg
company that was my Mother’s, and I never see it without thinking
of her measuring out milk for making custard-pudding.
The cup must be easily 60 or more years old, and I have other
measuring cups for measuring liquids that I simply overlook when
reaching for one. It’s always that pink one that I choose, and I
believe it’s because it keeps my Mother close to me when I’m in
the kitchen. She was my teacher about everything from cooking
and baking to all the chores of housekeeping.
If your Mom had a particular obsession about cleaning potatoes,
my Mother had one about changing bed linens. No matter how
clean we were when we went to bed, bed linens had to be
changed twice a week. To this day, I haven’t the faintest idea
why, and wish so often when I’m still doing it her way that I’d
asked her why.
The one place I have drawn the line is…I do not iron the sheets anymore.
I love your recipe for Buttermilk and Chive Scalloped Potatoes. I no longer
have anywhere to grow anything, but even when I did, I’d often substitute
the very tenderest green onion tops for chives just for the more intense onion
flavor. My hubby loves a bit of extra-sharp cheddar cheese on that first layer
of potatoes too. His middle name is “Rat” because he’d put cheese on
ice-cream if I’d let him.
I do enjoy your wit, recipes and your wonderful writing talent very much.
Thank you for sharing everything with us so generously.
Julia / Pookarina
Jackie Garvin says
Julia,
You always leave such thoughtful comments and I greatly appreciate them. You had asked earlier for my email address. Please feel free to contact me at [email protected].
Sue, a Florida Farm Girl says
Oh, you two are gonna set us all to blubbering!!! Not too long ago, I walked past a picture of Daddy and suddenly I could smell him. I literally had to lean against the wall to catch my breath and then the sobs began. He’s been gone nearly 21 years and that had never happened to me before. But I am so glad that it did. It reminded me how much I loved him and how much I still miss him.
Jackie Garvin says
Scientist believe that the sense of smell is more powerful than any other sense in stirring up memories. Thank you for sharing your wonderful story.
Mrs. Jen B says
Oh, that’s just beautiful! And, I’m sure, absolutely delicious!
Jackie Garvin says
Thanks, Jen!
Mary Raymundo says
Jackie – such fond memories always brings smiles and tears. I appreciate your stories. I remember peeling our potatoes with a butcher knife. That’s all we had. Boy was that sucker dull.
Jackie Garvin says
Thanks, Mary! I appreciate YOU!
JAN HALLQUIST THOMPSON says
Jackie, I so loved your story about your Momma, I’m crying while I type. Potatoes. Who would’ve thought? I am one of seven daughters. When I was a child, my Dad was in the Seminary when he was diagnosed with cancer. My Momma went to work to support our family and God knows they didn’t have a dime. Momma sewed all our clothes and taught me how to cook at an early age. She moved to heaven when I was 12. Years later, my sister gave every daughter a bottle of Tabu cologne for Christmas with a note that read “Momma’s favorite.” My son looked at her and said “hhhmmm, maybe it was you Daddy’s favorite on your Momma.” To this minute, I keep a small bottle of TABU in my collection ~ just in case I wanta go home for a minute!
Jackie Garvin says
Jan,
Thank you so much for sharing your sweet story and your thoughtful comment. One thing I love about writing is that it encourages (read: requires) me to relive memories. Those memories can evoke strong emotions which, in the beginning, can sting quite a bit. However, closely following the sadness is happiness associated with the fond memories. Actually, I make myself cry A WHOLE BUNCH. I truly believe that I have been given the gift (yes, it is a gift) of writing because I can write up a storm while I’m crying but I can’t talk and cry. My stories would never be told if I had to rely on oral communication. So…..I write about them. Thanks for adding so much to the Syrup and Biscuits community. I’m glad you found us. ♥
Karen Pearce says
I have one of those baking dishes and it is my favorite for many things I cook. I think it was made for scalloped potatoes, they come out perfect in it. Jackie, Aunt Helen was a precious jewel, I have very fond memories of her.
Jackie Garvin says
Karen,
I sure do love using that little dish but then I love vintage dishes of any kind. Thank you for your comments. Just to let you know, you got your Aunts mixed up a little. Betty was my mother. Helen is Ann and Lisa’s mother. Helen is a precious jewel, too!
Karen Pearce says
I meant Betty, LOL sometimes my brain goes on vacation without me.
Jackie Garvin says
LOL!
Mary says
Jackie: You’ve done it again! My mind runs instantly runs back to hundreds of things about our Big Mama. (the name wasn’t about size, by the way). Everything she did seemed effortless; her hands were beautiful working in the kitchen; she was modest, quiet, so lovely but unkempt many times from being so busy with three girls to raise and a husband who wore two white shirts a day – that’s washing, hanging out, “sprinkling”, and ironing – whew – today I can’t imagine. But her food was unforgettable! You’re so right – I can taste something I haven’t eaten for years, and suddenly, I’m back as a little girl in that house we were all raised in, delighting in the company of my sisters and Big Mama – eating warm fudge, chicken and dumplings, cornbread and fresh veggies from our garden, even quail my Dad would bring home from hunting. Years later when she became ill, she couldn’t do all those things, and it must have been so hard for her. She lived with us after her heart attack and couldn’t do in the kitchen hardly at all. Our youngest son brought home from school one day two mallard eggs. Big Mama was distraught that they would be so much trouble to hatch and raise, but we prevailed. They hatched and of course were adorable. When they became “teenagers” my son seemed to lose interest in taking care of them. Mama felt they might be hungry one day, and I found her struggling in the kitchen to bake a pone of cornbread to feed to those ducks. It was wonderful. That instinct never leaves, I guess. My “boys” are way past grown now, but I still want to know they’re being cared for. Food ties us together in our family, too, as well as all the love that goes with it. I often say that I wish I could rest my head in Mama’s lap just one more time. When she passed and I was so broken, my husband told me that now I had to be Big Mama. It’ll never happen, I’m afraid. But I keep trying. Yes, I too still miss Big Mama.
Jackie Garvin says
Mary,
I read your heart warming story three times. I can’t thank you enough for sharing. When I read comments like this, I feel that I am using my gift of writing in the manner that is was intended. Syrup and Biscuits is all about goodness and wonderful memories play a big part. Your Big Mama lives on in your heart and in your soul. You are a wonderful, caring, nurturing woman who had the blessing of an influence such as your Big Mama. In return, you are bestowing the same blessings on your family. Thank you so much for your contributions to the Syrup and Biscuits community. I so very happy you found us.
Suzanne Mills says
Love the addition of buttermilk! Very nice 🙂 Cant wait to try on Monday with our BBQ Pork Ribs! Just gorgeous!
Jackie Garvin says
Thanks Suzanne!
Maureen says
I know exactly what you mean. I visit a lot of blogs to get inspiration and when I see recipes or photos of food that my mother or grandmother made that has a strong memory of it I get tremendously homesick for the US. Most of the time I’m quite happy at home in Australia but those memories have a life of their own. 🙂
Gorgeous potatoes!
Jackie Garvin says
Maureen,
Thank you for your comment. Enjoy your life in Australia! Gosh, that’s a long way from home. I hope you visit Syrup and Biscuits often. We love having you.
Beverly A Harper says
How do u print the individual recipes on your site, when I clicked on the print link, it wanted to print 30 pages. Please advise
Jackie Garvin says
Beverly,
You might want to right click on your browser, then click print. A dialog box should pop up and allow you to select the pages that you want to print. Please let me know if this works.
Mary ann says
On of my favorite memories of Grandma is her sharpening the butcher knife on the back door stoop. I tell my CA kids that today and they think I’m crazy. My brother still has that knife and I see her every time I open that drawer in their kitchen. Me…I have the old brown tea pot and tea cups and dessert plates she used for her ladies card club, the plates sit on my plate rail in the dining room and the tea pot I use nearly everyday and the big old soup pot which is a planter now since it finally got a hole in its bottom. Thanks for bringing all those memories to mind today Jackie.
Jackie Garvin says
Mary Ann,
I hope my writing helped bring a smile to your face even if a little tear come along, too. That’s goodness and that’s what Syrup and Biscuits is all about. Thank you for being part of the Syrup and Biscuits community.