It is a tradition around here that on the weekend before we return to school, I make a fried chicken supper. The older JT gets (and the closer he is to leaving home for college), the more these small traditions mean to me. And Sunday chicken supper is an especially happy one.
This supper had all our favorites, including corn muffins with honey butter, grits casserole, and cole slaw. There were garden flowers on the table, as befits a late summer supper.
The grandmother who taught me to make these foods is always close in my mind when I set out to soak chicken in buttermilk and fry it up. I always admired the way she could cook by memory. Now I am the one cooking by memory and I do it to equip my son with memories and traditions that I hope will last a lifetime. That’s happy!
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