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    My mom's famous meal, Biscuits and gravy, is well suited for a Saturday morning. She never did anything TOO drastic to her recipe, but the smells bring me back there every time. Back to the childhood of quick-forgetting, and being warmed after being way too cold from outside. You could walk into the kitchen and smell the biscuits, and the warmth, and when everything was ready, and all right. The usual ingredients for the gravy; flour, sugar, cut up sausage to flavor; salt, pepper. But when I tasted those golden biscuits separated by hand, flooded with gravy, with sausage, I would remember not the particulars of the mornings and even some nights we had this dish; the breakfast loud, the dinners quiet ...
    I remember perfectly
    how each bite
    made those memories...
    wafting away the days
    I won't soon forget
    Last edited by amenOra; 01-10-2019, 05:47 AM.

  • #2
    A wonderful memory! I can almost taste the gravy! A well told excerpt from a possible future memoir!

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    • amenOra
      amenOra commented
      Editing a comment
      Could be part of a memoir yes!-- I was on a site, and someone suggested I try out a form they had written in, which I liked. And here this materialized. Thanks for readin friend!
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