I have been making my grandmother's pickles for the past 2 weeks (it is a 14 day recipe). As I started making the syrup, many memories that have come to my mind. The smell is such a wonderful reminder of the woman that I remember when I was young.
To me, it is the smell of Sunday dinner. On Sundays, she would make roast with all of the fixings. In the middle of the table were pickles. The best pickles anyone has ever tasted. Pickles that only Grandma could make. The next day she would serve the leftovers to make sandwiches and pickles.
Yesterday as I worked on the syrup, I thought of being a child in her home in Milford, IL (this is not where she lived for the last 20 or so years of her life). I could remember being in her kitchen "helping" her get dishes to set the table. The kitchen usually smelled like the smell I will always associate with one person, Grandma.
As I thought about this great lady, I remember how much love she had for her grandchildren and great grand children. I remembered that last time I visited her in Michigan (I have good memories of her there. Just not as many.) My boys were very small. Sean was 10 months old, and Eric was 2.2 years old. I remembered her taking my baby on her lap and reading to him. She was so amazed that he would just sit on her lap and let her read to him. Sean is now 13 and loves to read. I like to think that he got that love from her.
I hope that one day I will be able to make this recipe as good as my grandmother. I hope to be able to pass this recipe down so that the family recipe and memory of my grandma will continue on.
