Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Christmas Nanny Bug

In my childhood, most of our holiday activity centered around my grandmothers. On Christmas Eve Night, we would go to my maternal grandmother's house for a potluck dinner and opening of presents. Then, early Christmas morning, after Santa came, we would load up and go to my father's mother's home and have Christmas breakfast.

My grandmothers were as opposite as opposite could be. They loved me, they loved each other, and both were the most awesome ladies ever, but they had very different ways of doing things. Whereas Mom's mom (Cleo) could take or leave the holidays and having 20 people running around her house, Dad's mom (Nanny Bug) was the ultimate hostess. She thrived on having a house full of guests, each of whom she would wait on hand and foot as if they were the only person around. At Cleo's, you made yourself at home, got your own glass (usually a converted jelly jar) for the iced tea that you would pour yourself. But at Nanny Bug's house, you had no idea where the glasses were even located. Such was her style.

Breakfast on Christmas at Nanny Bug's house was a huge deal. As a kid, I hated having to get up so early and leave all my Christmas booty behind to go to her house. But as I got older, I came to appreciate all that went into preparing and presenting that meal, and enjoyed spending the time with my cousins, who I rarely saw during the year.

At Nanny Bug's house, there was no "Kid's Table." We all sat at the dining room table and we all ate off of her good Lenox Christmas china with the Reed and Barton silver. She made every food imaginable - eggs scrambled, fried, boiled, poached. There was bacon, ham, sausage (both patties and links), grits, oatmeal, hash browns, assorted fruits, pancakes, toast made from every type of bread, jams and jellys galore, English muffins, bagels, and angel biscuits to die for. And red eye gravy. It is basically ham grease and coffee, which sounds pretty gross, but it was sooooo very awesome. Pretty much - if even one of us had a favorite breakfast food, she would make it for that meal. And she cooked every single bit of it all by herself with no outside help from anyone.

As I struggle to complete my one dish this year (sweet potato souffle - Nanny Bug's recipe), I can't even fathom how she did it all and made it seem so effortless.

Merry Christmas, Nanny Bug. I love you and I miss you.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Our paternal grandmother was great (as was our maternal one) - thanks for this remembrance. They are both loved and missed.
I wish Nanny Bug had been able to know our contributions to the great grandkids.