The Dough That Binds Us

A heartfelt story of baking, memory, and the quiet ways family lives on in the kitchen.

Recently, I was on our other website, “The Southern Lady Cooks“, searching for a recipe, and an entry popped up that Mom had written years ago about her mother. Many of you are aware of this, but Mom started our website, and I didn’t join the team until it was 10 years old. So it’s not unusual for me to come across entries she wrote that I’ve seen for the first time. Here is what I found….

“My mother had this crock for as long as I can remember. She kept it in the old, white kitchen cupboard with a flour sifter on one side and a bread drawer on the other. The crock was used to mix up the dough for her biscuits. It holds eight quarts. Mama was the champion when it came to making those big, fat, buttermilk biscuits, and she would make a lot of them at one time. We thought her cold biscuits with blackberry jam and fresh butter were treats to be savored.  We ate them for a snack, like kids today eat cookies. I remember neighborhood children knocking on our door and asking my mother if she had any cold biscuits.  Mama would always give them a biscuit with jam or jelly.  I can shut my eyes and picture her with her floral apron, mixing the dough and adding the buttermilk to this big, old crock. She used her hands to make the dough into a ball. Mama’s green-handled biscuit cutter and rolling pin, along with the crock, are still in use in my kitchen today. The paint has worn off the rolling pin handles from Mama’s hands, along with mine, from using it so many times.

I use the crock to mix cakes from scratch and the dough for my sourdough bread.

When my children were small, and we lived on the farm, I always made my bread. Several months ago, I started making it again. My starter is made with instant mashed potato flakes, and I feed it every five days and then make the bread. There is nothing like hot sourdough bread straight from the oven with butter. It is also wonderful toasted for sandwiches.  I have enjoyed making bread for my family once again and giving it away as gifts to friends.

I always think of Mama when I get the crock down off the top of my refrigerator every five days.  I have several things that belonged to her, but for some reason, “the crock” seems like a part of Mama that remains close to my heart. Hopefully, one day my girls will continue the bread-making tradition in one form or another, and the crock will be passed to another generation. I think we all have things that have been passed on to us from friends or relatives that mean a great deal to us or bring back memories.”–Judy Yeager, founder of The Southern Lady Cooks

I love this entry for many reasons. One is that Mom continued the tradition that Nannie started years ago. Just like Nannie was known for her biscuits, so is Mom. My husband would crawl on his hands and knees for miles just to get one. Trust me when I say she can make a biscuit better than anyone I’ve ever come across, and I know plenty of people who would stand behind that statement.

I also love it because Anne and I were not interested in cooking when Mom wrote that blog entry. She was creating the website, sharing her favorite recipes, and Anne and I were running up and down the road with our horses, competing in rodeos and barrel races, and eating beanie weenies from a can. Yesterday, I pulled a crock down that my Mom gave me years ago when I started making her sourdough bread. That’s right; I now make her sourdough bread every week. Just like Mom wrote years ago, that she hoped we would continue the tradition of bread making…I have. I love pulling my crock out and making the dough. I think of Mom every single time I do it, just as she thinks of her Mama when she makes it. I find it fascinating that I came to it on my own. Mom didn’t shove a crock in my face and tell me to get to baking. It happened over time. Slowly but surely, I found myself in front of a crock, making dough and baking bread. How that exactly came to be, I don’t know. What I do know is that connection over food is one of the best connections to be made.

Carrying on a family tradition teaches us that memories are special. That the people before us mattered. That their way of life meant something. It’s something I’m immensely proud of. I’m forever grateful that Mom always placed importance on traditions. The crocks we still use today are family heirlooms that I will always treasure. But the memories we’ve made with them and the traditions we’ve continued are priceless. 

YOU MAY ALSO WANT TO READ:

• Family Movie Night: A Tradition that Changed with Time
• The Ghost of Furlongs
• Preserving Traditions with Nannie

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