It wasn’t about the food really.
When I went into my grandmother’s kitchen, it was more about catching up, hearing what was going on, her letting us know she was there. Not necessarily for any great meaningful heart to heart. It was more of a day to day sustenance-food yes, but more of the soul. What she wanted to impart really was care, I think. I wish I knew where she learned that skill from. Like most, I didn’t ask enough questions.
When people started cooking with fire, it allowed for more time gathered around as a family waiting on things to tenderize. Mostly food people couldn’t previously eat due to toughness or off putting flavors which fire tenderized, carmelized, and made much more palatable. It was often called the hearth of the home. It provided families with an anchor, a place to gather. And more food choices for better nutrition.
I think about the hearths I’ve been gathered around as a child and teen. Old wood stoves where soups bubbled away, roasts braised, bread rose and baked beans slow cooked right next to wool socks drying. Small pantries held bowls of eggs on the counters (something viewed with shock and horror now), cookie jars, sauerkraut and pickles of crocks fermenting, and bins of dry goods. Family suppers served every night. Dessert only if you ate all your meal. Where waste was a dirty word.
I’m sure there were time just like there are now, when Gram wanted everyone to just stop coming and going so she could just clean the kitchen up once and for all. But shiny, clean kitchens aren’t really my jam. I love kitchens that show true life.
Sometimes these hearths were hard places to be because there were dishes to do, siblings to get along with, and character building hard conversations to be had. “Mom, Tell Jennifer to stop breathing through her nose !!”
The people who cared about me were there.
As I get older and have helped create my own hearth for my family, I realize how precious it is. It’s not an old wood stove (I wish!) but the spirit I hope is better. Because every generation always wants to make things better than we had them.
My kitchen always makes me slow down. When the ones I care about are around, popping in and out stealing cookies (even at 22) or asking what’s for supper, or “what’s the smell??” it reminds me how important showing up every day in this space is and tending to the fellowship of family.
Hearth. It is an old fashioned word but it has a place in my soul.
Love Jenn xx