Grandma Myers’ Chocolate Pudding
It was quite an experience growing up in Wilson
County Kansas Union
Valley
Fortunately my grandparents lived only a few miles away so
frequent visits were possible unlike today with grandchildren are spread across
the country.
Two or three times each year, like Thanksgiving and
Christmas, we would go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for a big family meal
with cousins, aunts, uncles, and naturally Grandma and Grandpa. Whenever we shared a meal at Grandma’s and
Grandpa’s it was always quite an event.
It was obvious that Grandma had been working all morning preparing
dishes for all of us to enjoy. And enjoy
we did.
Grandma’s kitchen was somewhat large with plenty of room for
the range, cabinets, and a buffet and lots of people. In one corner near the door leading to the
living room was Grandma’s treadle Singer sewing machine and next to it on a
small table was the telephone, one that had no dial and no buttons. It was just a plain phone connected to a
party line that was shared with four or five neighbors.
On these family occasions the kitchen was filled with the
laughter of the ladies, Grandma’s laugh especially, as they visited while
finishing the meal preparations. There would
be aunts and sisters, daughters and mothers and the crying of an infant or two.
In an adjoining living room the men would gather, Grandpa in
his favorite chair next to his shelves of Louis L’Amour books with dads and
uncles spread around the room. There was
the old worn couch, a black and white Sylvania TV, the kind that you have to
get up out of your chair and walk across the room and turn the dial to get one
of the other three stations. There was a
door to the north porch which was only opened to bring in wood for the
stove. The men would visit telling
stories and jokes while the young children played with their toys on the
floor.
The older kids ran and played outside in the yard and among
the trees of the forest. They would jump
over the creek and rustle in the leaves.
We would follow a rustic road that lead down into and up out of a valley
to the barn where cows were milked twice daily.
When the time came, Grandma invited us all into the kitchen,
and asked Uncle Ed to say grace. He is a devout Christian and had the most
resonous voice. He could have been a
radio announcer. In real life he was a
career Air Force man so if he and Aunt Margaret weren’t in England Alaska
Walking into Grandma’s kitchen was like walking into a warm
hug. The heat from the oven gave the
kitchen a cozy, welcoming feeling. Kind of warm and fuzzy if you will. The aroma of fried chicken and mashed
potatoes filled the air. Also, Grandma
made the best noodles I have ever had.
They were not only tasty but their texture was pleasing to the pallet
all the way down. The table was covered
with meats and salads and vegetables were always in plentiful supply. And always, near the center, there was a big
bowl of Grandma’s homemade chocolate pudding.
In our home chocolate pudding was treated as a desert. But at Grandma’s house, chocolate pudding was
something special. Grandma served her
chocolate pudding as if it was another dish of a meal to be enjoyed with the
meats and salads. That’s what made it
special at Grandma’s house. I could have
chocolate pudding any time from the beginning of the meal to the end. Wow! I
loved that. I understand that one uncle
put chocolate pudding on his mashed potatoes instead of gravy.
Her chocolate pudding was a dark brown and creamy. It was so sweet tasting that one’s taste buds
stood at attention at just the mention of it.
One’s tongue would whip around in the mouth against the teeth on each
side in eager anticipation of the chocolaty taste. It was so good that relatives would come from
miles around in expectancy of the wonderful flavor. It was home made. Nothing out of a box. Nothing off the shelf. Just good old Grandma type of chocolate
pudding. Better than both of my other
favorite deserts, Baklava and apple strudel.
After the “Amen” we would fill our plates with more food than
we could possibly eat, always leaving room for chocolate pudding.
We kids would eat at card tables erected on the front
screened-in porch.
When the food had been enjoyed, when the dishes had been
washed and dried and put away. When the
leftovers had been put into the refrigerator or doled out to various family
members, after the kids had exhausted themselves eating and running, after the
men had told all their stories and jokes and the women had caught up on all the
family news, it was time to go home. We
had enjoyed one another’s company again.
We had eaten too much, again. We
had relished the love of family, especially the love that Grandma and Grandpa
had for their family.
Now that I’m grown and considerably older I still take
pleasure in the memories of family get-togethers at my grandparents’ home. I look with fondness on the fellowship we
shared with aunts, uncles, and cousins.
Now we are spread far and wide, some of the older ones have joined Jesus
in heaven. But, the memories of youth
while growing up in Wilson County
