A Warm-Hearted, Welcoming Tradition

Walking up to my grandmother’s house, the sun illuminated the large, stain-glassed doors. As I ran up the long gravel driveway, my white Easter dress billowed behind me in the wind and I could already smell the freshly-baked aroma that filled my grandmother’s house. Entering the house, I looked to my left. The dining room was spot-lighted by a shimmering chandelier. The table had everything a southern meal consisted of. Fried chicken, fried okra, mashed potatoes and an abundance of other fried delicacies were neatly placed in their designated area on the table. My entire family filled the house in their lovely Easter Sunday entire. The house was filled with loud chatter and laughter. All of the adults were catching up with each other, sharing a bottle of wine and rekindling old childhood memories. Some of the children played hide and go seek in the backyard, while the others jumped on the trampoline. Some of us on the other hand found anyway possible to ruin our nice white outfit. Some of my best memories as a child centered around these moments. A simple family tradition had given root to my favorite food.

My grandmother always knew how to make the perfect southern meal. I would look forward to going to her house because of her sweet spirit and her cooking skills. Even when my family and I would turn onto her street it seemed as if I could smell that famous fried chicken. She spent the entire day making every specific dish from scratch so that it was just right. Of course, she had help from the women in the family as it was a way for them to bond with each other. It was a mother passing on tradition from generation to generation. They were not just cooking a meal for our entire family, but pouring their hearts and souls into every baked, fried, or steamed entrée. By adding a pinch of this and a dab of that, they fulfilled the recipes that had been passed down through generations of my family.

The fried chicken was always the one food that caught my eye. It was the finest tasting chicken I had ever eaten. It was one-hundred percent all natural and cooked to perfection. The outside was fried to a crisp. Upon cutting open the chicken, it was filled with thick white meat that steamed from the middle. There was very little fat if any at all and it was the type of chicken that you could eat right down to the bone. Touching my tongue, the flavor of the chicken quenched my taste buds like water on a hot summer day!

I think fried chicken is the best food I could use to describe me as a person. As with fried chicken, I was born and raised in the South and I will always live by my southern roots. Just like the crispy outside of the delicious chicken, I have somewhat of a tougher skin. I do not let people walk all over me and at times I am hesitant to let people in. I do not take much from people and I stand my ground when I am in need to do so. Once you get to know me, you will see my inner self. On the inside, I am gentle hearted and I have a warm soul like the tender meat of the chicken. I am easy to get along with and I have love for everyone unless I am given a reason not to. My entire childhood consisted of family gatherings where everyone crowded around the table to retrieve the best piece of chicken they could find. I, myself, on the other hand, always went back for more. Every time I visited my grandmother I would always insist that fried chicken was to be made for the next family function. To this day, there is always that crispy, golden chicken waiting to stare me in the eye on our special occasions. Fried chicken is to me like food is to Mr. Weinstein, absolutely necessary in every single way. Without it I do not think my life would be complete.

Fried chicken is notorious world-wide as your typical southern delicacy. Only in the south will you find families brought together regularly by this traditional dish. People go to great lengths to make the perfect chicken for their meals. With my experience in traveling, I have never been anywhere outside of the south that actually had truly southern fried chicken. I have tasted everything from the “fish and chips” of England to the escargot of France and nothing even compares to the feeling I get biting into a freshly fried chicken breast. When you think of the South you think of warm hearted welcoming people, and that is how I felt every time I stepped foot into my grandmothers house when she was making her famous fried chicken, warm hearted and welcomed.