The Pantry

[Bobby Bass]

Having made it through the holidays now we will settle in to out last winter. With family and friends over during the holidays there was a lot of memories shared. For some reason there was a lot of talk about our pantry that we have here at the cabin. Seems that everyone would sooner or later coffee cup in hand wander over to the doorway of the pantry and look inside. You could watch as they sniffed the air and turned back into the kitchen with a smile on their face. My pantry is nothing like grandma's pantry that I remember from my youth. The old farm house had the big farm kitchen with the black and white square tile on the floor. It reminded me of cows for some reason. The heavy wood stove in the corner standing by itself. Heavy cast iron pots and pans hanging from ceiling hooks above it. The smell of stew or soup always simmering on the top. Even the old coffee pot off to one side that never seem to go empty. Having to carry wood from the pile by the barn to the wood box just outside the kitchen door. When I got older I got to swing the hatchet and make kindling, that went inside the kitchen and was stacked inside an old wood dairy box with faded green paint and gold lettering that you could no longer read.

But what I remember was the pantry A small room off to the side of the kitchen it held all of grandma's goodies Glass jars with home made penny candy, rows and rows of canning jars with jelly, jams and green beans. Big quart jars of applesauce and the jug of maple syrup. Bins with potatoes or spuds as Grandpa would call them. Onions hanging in mesh bags and hot peppers upside down still on the plant. Trays of cookies and loafs of bread on the cutting board that was pulled out from under the counter. The massive butcher block rubbed smooth from hands kneading bread on it. Not to be confused with the block outside where dinner chickens were made ready for supper or the soup pot. The smells, as soon as you walked into the little room your nostrils flare at all the smells in the air. Different spices, cinnamon sticks, the box of bouillon cubes that somehow became grandma soups. Candy sprinkles for the top of cookies and the keg of oatmeal and brown sugar used for breakfast but even better when mixed with raisins and made into chewy cookies. Stacks of cupcake and bread pans resting on top of the well used blacken cookie sheets. Apples from the bin on your left. Maybe even a pie or two sitting out to cool. The apron with flour on it hanging from its hook and an open box of wax waiting to be used in canning. Grandpa calling you over to have you taste some of his pickled pike or some canned grouse. As you reached into the jar with a fork grandpa would tell you the story of how that pike found it's way into the jar or how far he had to chase that grouse before he could get a second shot off.

Salmon from uncle Stan who made a trip fishing to Alaska. A sandwich filled with salmon spread and stories of fishing with bears with not a tree in sight. That was grandma's pantry, along with grandma and grandpa the old pantry is gone. But we still have a pantry here. Not as big as grandma was or maybe it was that I was so young that the pantry seem so big. Our pantry still has a spud bin and onions hang in old nylons from hooks. Of course now our pantry has bins for dry dog and cat food. Jams and jells from the garden along with jars of homemade pickles are stacked on shelf's. Apples from our trees rest in a box on the cool floor. Bananas hang from a little hook on the counter and a old wicker basket has an assortment of oranges and apples. Flour and sugar sits in the old canisters that we have from grandma's pantry. A hot pepper plant from the garden hangs upside down in the doorway. We don't cook with them but they are there for anyone who wants to take a taste. They look good there, Green and different shades of red, dried leaves make a rustling sound when you bump into them coming and going from the pantry.

The grand kids head for the pantry as soon as they get their boots off, That is of course where grandma keeps the goodies. Fudge and cookies, bread and rolls, of course apple pie cools best in the pantry. Pickle pike rests on the shelf next to a few jars of grouse. A small glass jar of pickle eggs is tucked away in the corner, all but forgotten. The canning date has worn off telling us when it was made and no one wants to really open it to see if they are still good. Grandson number one likes the pickled pike and when we open a jar of course we have to tell the story behind the fish that is in the jar. With pike and cracker he runs out of the pantry before I can finish the story. I stand with jar in hand and taking some out for myself I am reminded of my grandpa and his stories of his pickled fish. Reed the Realtor says I should take out the pantry and make the kitchen bigger. I disagree, you can't really have a kitchen without a pantry and all it's memories..

[Phred52]

WOW!!! THANK BOBBY!! That really takes me back. You described my Grandma Kaye's Pantry to a T! Thanks again, that was just GREAT reading. Phred52