Getting Back To My Roots

Nowadays it seems that we are in Pine Mountain almost every week and the more we are there the more we long to be there MORE... Mike has the itch bad... the itch to be there and away from the traffic and hustle and bustle that surrounds us daily here in Atlanta... the thought of living in a "slower" lifestyle area coupled with living out of eyesight from the neighbors and being one with nature... yadda yadda yadda... this idea just seems to lure him more and more to the idea that we need to move down there sooner than what we agreed on last fall. And I have to agree that the more I think about living there and envisioning what life will be like, it is a little exciting.
During one of our visits back in November, I took a couple of my grandmother's cast iron skillets and brought them home. I really wanted to start cooking with these- just like she used to. One of my fondest childhood memories is "helping" her cook cornbread. Cornbread was a staple in our home... it was served with every meal. My grandfather LOVED it. In the winter, it was especially great because my grandmother would add "cracklins" to it. This is a very southern tradition for those of you who do not know. So along with trying to remember her recipe for perfect cornbread, I went on a quest for cracklins. Well let's just say that NO where in the metro Atlanta area sells them. And where did my Mother finally find them for me? In Pine Mountain of course! So I bought two bags and put them in the freezer. My first attempt at the cracklin cornbread recipe was a little dry... not enough buttermilk. But, the second was PERFECT! She would be so proud of me! Even my husband (who was raised Yankee-style unfortunately) thought it was pretty darn good. So now I am happy to make cornbread any time we have guests over. Of course, I also want to learn how to can veggies and make jams, jellies, perserves, etc.... But, that will not happen until I live down there and have some instruction from the ladies back home.
Needless to say, I could kick myself now for not paying attention to her then and taking the time to learn how to do these things... especially now that I am planning our pilgrimage back to my hometown in a few short years. It is just seems right to carry on the family tradition after we get there... I better start studying her old cookbooks now...