The Master Piece

A small thing, my grandma's mixing bowl is what I choose to bring home, not pictures or treasures but a simple red bowl that held my childhood memories.

The Master Piece

             Take three! My mind yells as again, I rewrite this short  couplet.  A gentle warm and revealing smile spread across my face and colors my memory in bliss; as I gaze at the paltry little red mixing bowl, which is air drying in my sink.  At forty-six plus years I have no memories that it did not have a place in the background.  My mother washed it for my Grandma, as did my Aunt, my three cousins and myself.  


        Watching her whip up a meal was truly an art form.  She was a Christian woman, with simple speech and an honest measure for living. Not simple minded but her mind worked in a simple straight line. This line of thinking flavored her cooking but did not limit its flavor. This mixing bowl was used in her cooking daily. With the passing of each meal, it was washed and on most occasions, it was washed more than once.


           She would don her pale yellow and white checked apron, like the conductor would don his cummerbund. Fortified with a wood spoon the symphony of smells and sounds would commence. Soft running water to rinse freshly harvested scallions and basil would drip in the colander, while freshly rendered bacon grease crackles in the skillet. Dried-out cornbread and biscuits found themselves tossed on the counter as green peppers, mushrooms and cheese were taken to the blade.  

      Her arms waved about like a grand orchestra stood at her attention. Just as if Benjamin Zander himself was there the harmony of time and space began.  From out of thin air she pulled a cutting-board.  Six slices of pepper bacon were crumbled into pieces while small pinches of bread crumbs and herbs made the mound of  aromas drift higher. Braised veggies soaked in the smoky maple drippings only adding to the perfection of both smell and memory.  Slivers of turkey were folded in and the mixing bowl dumped its loot into a casserole dish the sauce pan that contained a robust broth of turkey patiently waited to soak the thirty crumbs’ of bread and as I stare at my grandma’s bowl I begin to scamper through my kitchen, to satisfy my need to create another master piece.

Author's Note

someone please pass the stuffing

Reviews

[?]

Well I think I need to find my box of kleenex, this is so touching. Just wonderful
Made me think of my grandmother. Grandmothers are angels to us.
They are truly special. Just hope I can be as special to my granddaughter some day.
Love this one, very nice

[Jennifer Webster]

That was a very refreshing story; I hope that you keep up the most fantastic work ever!-JW

[Cherrie]

Thank you for reviewing my poem. It is on my favorites and I'm so glad you enjoyed reading it.

[Antonio Valentino]

haha, oh my gosh what a wonderful story! I wish I could taste your master piece I'm sure it came out delicious, just like this write, it had just the right amount of savoriness, seasoning, and love, the most important ingredient.

[AlexAustin]

A sweet prose poem.

[Arthur Henn]

Cherrie - You have created another master piece with this writing. This was beautiful! Anyone that has don any cooking in the kitchen will know of this writing importance.

I could see, feel and smell all that was happening here - Wonderful!

Art

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Very heart warming story! I think your grandma and my mawmaw would've gotten alone perfectly!

[Samuel Dickens]

I didn't know my grandmothers, so I'm envious. My mother, born 1925, cooked a lot like your grandmother, though, so I'm familiar with their kind of simple kitchen culinary magic. A great thing about this story is that you have the bowl. You know the history and value of it and its unique personal link to your grandmother, and so I doubt that there's a better person for it to belong to now.
An after thought--you might have entitled this "The Master's Piece"

[Steve]

I love the colours and imagery, crackling aromas and pepper bacon... (which I had never heard of before but sound like one of the best things!) You can almost smell the words off the page.

Thanks for sharing with us.

[Steph's_romantic_myster..]

This was a very sweet sentimental piece and I really enjoyed it thank you

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

See that is what I call a family heirloom... cause an true heirloom isn't bout how much it cost, it is the sentiment behind the item.

[Ron]

"Scallions" what a fantastic olde English word. It is meshed so appropriately in this grand story about the recent, family past. The taste buds roar and the readers feels cosy, happy, content mirroring exactly the feelings of the writer as this item was composed. Some of the foods are quite unknown to us beefy Brits but nevertheless my stomach yearned for them. How this sort of writing needs a book to fit into! Another winner from C.P.