Jackie Danicki

Read this. It reminded me of when my Gramma died in 1996, whereupon my aunts went through the cupboards and found boxes of spices she’d purchased from a store that had closed in the 1970s. (Also, in the coal bin, which my grandparents used as a pantry, case upon case of faded cans of Pepsi, just barely still showing a logo iteration at least six years old.)

That said, both Nancy’s mom and my grandmother could claim to be incredible cooks. Maybe you just don’t want to know what went into the food, though.

Filed under: Life