Sundays have always meant certain things to my family. You went to church each morning, came home and changed out of your Sunday clothes, and then prepared for Sunday dinner. Sunday dinner often included extended family members, friends, church members, or a combination of all.
Momma would usually start preparing on Saturday night, depending on what she was making and how many folks she was planning on feeding. Now, if you have even been raised around Sunday dinners you know you always, always plan on more people eating than what you’re expecting to have. The worst that could happen is you send folks home with leftovers or you have them for an extra day or two.
When we would get home from church, we would change out of our Sunday best, and then while daddy would head out to the barn to take care of the animals, I would help momma in the kitchen. I must admit that I am one of the best taste testers in the area, just ask momma.
There would always be the “main attraction” as daddy would call it, rather it be a roast, a ham, fried chicken, or something along those lines. There was always some type of bean, like pintos, white, or green beans. You had your sides like stewed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and broccoli and rice casserole. Then bringing up the rear would be your cornbread, sweet tea, and finally dessert.
I always knew my momma had to be just plain exhausted after cooking all that food, because I knew how tired I got just by helping and watching her do it all. But, she never complained and she always had a smile on her face.
I asked her once what she enjoyed cooking Sunday dinners so much, and she told me that she loved taking care of her family.
I never knew what that truly felt like until I grew up, had a family of my own, and started preparing the Sunday dinners myself. Now I know what momma meant when she talked about it making her happy.
Even now, she will share the knowing smile with me when I’m running around my kitchen getting everything ready and smiling while I do it.
I enjoy taking care of my family. I enjoy feeding them, getting to hear them talk and laugh together. I enjoy Sunday dinners.
There’s always a tale to be told, a small-town scandal to whisper about, a joke to be laughed at, a child to praise, and a mouth to feed.
Check out some of the recipes that are posted in the Pinch & Dash section and give them a try.