Cookbook full of love
Grandmother’s recipe conjures up fond memories of early Florida days
Every time I open one of my grandma’s cookbooks, I’m back in her kitchen. I swear I can smell fried mullet when I turn the pages. Sometimes scraps of paper fall out with notes from my grandpa: “Mom, Gone to pick up Fred. Love, Dad.” I treasure these more than the actual recipes. My grandma, Polly Summerlin Moore, never followed recipes anyway. She might look at them for ideas or to jog her memory, but then she closed the book and cooked.
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