My Fave Memory with food involves my great grandmother, who was also my next door neighbor when I was growing up. I loved Saturday mornings when I’d see my grandma crossing our backyards, past her laundry hanging on the clothesline in the warm summer breeze and past the lilac bushes that separated our yards. She’d have a foil wrapped treasure for us of banana or zucchini bread, depending on whatever surplus she had in her kitchen. Or it would be a plate of blueberry muffins with farm fresh berries and sugar sprinkled on the top, still warm from the oven.

Sometimes I’d venture over to visit grandma in her tiny kitchen. She always had a treat to share with us. I particularly liked dipping sour blueberries into the hobnail glass sugar bowl, a little trick she taught me. We’d talk about her memories of growing up during the depression or share stories of our family. She was an amazing woman who liked to craft and keep her hands busy. She’d have her daughters look through the Sears catalog to pick out a dress and she’d whip it up, just by looking at the picture.

I can’t eat a slice of banana bread without thinking about her and the cherished times I had with her.