Handed down recipes are treasures that we look forward to enjoying at every family gathering. My children’s grandmother made cole slaw for every occassion. When asked how much of this and that did she stir into the cabbage, she always responded with what seemed as vague answers. The truth is that she never measured any of the ingredients with measuring spoons or cups. MomMom measured with her eyes and her taste buds. The following poem, Grandma’s Recipes, always reminds me of her.
This has always puzzled me, just how much is a pinch?
These recipes of dear Grandma’s surely are no cinch.
A “snip” of this, a “dab” of that, a “lump” of something else…
then “beat it for a little while”, or, “stir until it melts.”
I have to be a wizard to decipher what she meant
by all these strange proportions in her cookbook worn and bent.
How much nutmeg’s in the doughnuts? Grandma wouldn’t flinch
as she said, with twinkling eyes, “Oh, just about a pinch.”
There must have been in her wise head a measuring device
that told her just how much to use of sugar, salt, and spice.