Then there was grandmother’s chicken and noodles. It didn’t matter if you didn’t like the chicken and noodles out of the can, grandmother made them and we all had to try some. Most of us didn’t put up a fight and all of us asked for seconds.
No one has the recipe, I’ve asked. The reason we don’t have it isn’t because no one bothered to ask for it, it’s but because there wasn’t one. Grandmother hardly had any recipes on paper, they were all tucked away in her head for safe keeping.
I’ve tried my hardest to duplicate her dish, but there is nothing that comes close. I’ve looked high and low. It might be that I don’t make my noodles from scratch. It might be that I don’t have a long table to share them with a big family. Or it might be that I’m not as talented as she was when it comes to the culinary arts.
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