The Unique and Special Women Who Where Our Grandmothers..Remembered

Every once and a while, I pull out a wonderful book by Ellen Perry Berkeley entitled "At Grandmother’s Table". It is a collection of 68 friends who share deeply moving stories of their grandmothers. I read it, because my grandmother (and grandfather) instilled in me ,the love of food and dining (among other things).

My grandparents were Edwardians and thus, at least to their children, rarely showed emotion of any kind. This was especially true of my grandmother. She seldom laughed and almost never touched, kissed, hugged or demonstrated any tenderness or love. Her personal standards were high and immutable and everyone who came in contact with her was expected to follow her practices she considered basic to civil living.
When any one of my brothers came over to her home, the first thing we had to do is sit down and recite our times tables. To someone like myself, who hated mathematics, it was a time of great emotional strain, but somehow I got through it. But I always looked forward to eating at grandmothers home.
All meals were served in her dining room, never in the kitchen, on a table set with a luxurious, starched tablecloth, cloth napkins, full china ( and very expensive) and silver service (shined to a luster) and water glasses. We always had soup, either consommé or cream soup and always served in the proper type of soup dishes. The main course was duck with turnips or leg of lamb or a slow roasted chicken or long simmering stew and always served with lots of in-season vegetables; many from her back yard. Table manners were strictly enforced and one sat there until everyone was done ( that could be a good hour). Dessert was served, along with a bowl of nuts that you had to open with a nut cracker and the meal was finished with glasses of tea.
I love eating at grandmothers, I loved the ceremony, the dining for dining sake, the company always well dressed - ties and jackets of course, even for my brothers and I and always the great conversation from the adults. I was a grateful listener.
Today I approach my dining when I travel in the same way and always measure it against my grandmothers table. Dining at her home has always stayed with me as a warm and treasured memory. Whenever I dine like I did at her house, I think of her and just smile.
Towards the end of her life, ( she lived to be over 90) she had a series of strokes and was hospitalized and I well remember seeing her one afternoon and although she could not talk, she had an alphabet board made up so she could spell out what she wanted to say. As I entered the room, she took the board and quickly spelled out something, that her nurse read to me. The nurse said, "Your grandmother says your shoes are not shined!" That was my grandmother!