Pungent slabs of Virginia ham on flakey biscuits never far from reach. Tomato Sandwiches on Pepperidge Farm bread. Pulling onions right out of the garden and eating them raw. Green bean casserole. Macaroni and cheese, heavy with crust. Endless hours spent swimming in the pool. Warm towels fresh from the dryer. Food Everywhere. All the time. A refrigerator so stuffed that it practically let out a sigh when coaxed to close. Laurence's Grocery. "One scoop or two?". Peach soda pop. A seemingly endless supply of libations.
Little did I know that a mere 45 minutes away FForFood was carving out similar childhood memories at her Aunt Babe's dining room table in Roanoke. As I sat outside of the chicken house helping my grandmother shell almost-too-pretty-to-eat cream and purple speckled beans for dinner, FForFood was spooning heaping forkfulls of her Aunt Babe's shelly beans onto her plate. As I was crunching my way through the griddled crust of my grandmother's rich potato pancakes, FForFood was lost in the near transcendental creaminess of Aunt Babe's mashed potatoes. And Now here we are. Tucked into the Hills of Holly and we are about to bring it all home.
FForFood, Kathy Emerson and I will be strapping on our Maggie Mae Aprons and bringing back Dinner at Eight.
Each month we will travel back to "the South" and the furthest reaches of our memories and pay homage to the women that inspired us. A Sunday Supper in the South by Dinner at Eight is a true family affair and we hope, where you find yourself a memorable dining experience.
To make a reservation, click here. Dinner at Eight.