They Have Grocery Stores in Dallas Too, You Know.

The car pulled into our driveway after a three-hour drive over the mountains. My parents and 81-year-old grandmother had arrived at our home for an overnight stay before flying out of New York’s La Guardia airport early the next morning.

It was to be the trip of a lifetime and my grandmother’s first-ever airplane journey. My parents were taking her to Kentucky to visit her youngest son and see his newly purchased farm and boy, was she excited.  She practically bounded out of the car, sore arthritic knees forgotten in the anticipation.  Of course, we were delighted too, but what happened next was a sight to behold. 

Dad opened the back of the car to retrieve their suitcases and called for us to help unpack an array of shopping bags that had taken up most of the room in the trunk. What the heck! Were all of these going on the airplane too? There were thirteen bags in all, each of them containing a variety of tin foil wrapped items.

“Um, Dad?  What’s all this? I thought the airlines had a limit on carryon items.”  He rolled his eyes and replied: “Why don’t you tell that to your grandmother” and quickly escaped into the house.

“Baba, what’s in the bags?” I inquired as my grandmother inspected each sack carefully to make sure the precious cargo was safe and secure.

“Oh, not really much” she said, “it’s only some things I’ll need to make Uncle Bob’s favorite dishes when we get to Kentucky. There are red potatoes for potato pancakes, mushrooms for the soup I used to make when he was little and a 5-pound bag of Gold Medal flour to make the Slovak pastry he really likes.  I’ve also got a dozen apples from the tree in the backyard for homemade apple pie, plus sugar, butter and all of the spices I’ll need.  I wasn’t quite sure how to get eggs there safely, so I’m hoping I won’t have any trouble finding them there.”

I stifled a giggle and gently suggested that Kentucky was no longer the “Daniel Boone” pioneer territory she might think it was and that modern grocery stores are plentiful there.  It didn’t matter. 

Baba was thrilled to see her son and determined to cook and bake up a storm for him. At her age, who was going to argue with her about the necessity of hauling so many groceries to Kentucky?

Knowing she would never be able to carry all those bags onto the plane, much less fit them in an overhead compartment, we packed the bags into an extra-large suitcase, which we hoped was below the 50-pound limit allowed. 

I really don’t remember, but somehow, she managed to get the airline to take it all.  What I do know is that the trip was a great success and made her supremely happy.  She was in her element, taking care of and fussing over her family, and what better way to do it than with food.

And, here I am, 40+ years later, following in her footsteps. We’ve been invited to spend Thanksgiving with our family in Dallas and, just like my grandmother, I couldn’t be more elated.  Menu planning started practically the minute we’d been invited and the list of things to make - and take - was growing daily. 

“Let me see … I said to no one in particular as I pondered everyone’s favorite delectables.  “The boys have always loved my giant chocolate chip cookies and they’re old enough now for my famous bourbon ball candies, so they definitely go on the list.  Katie just loves the TexMex dip and cake bombs.  I’ll bet I can make all of these and take them with us so we can spend more time being with family and less time cooking.”

Within a short time, kitchen production was in full force. Counters were covered with completed batches of cookies, cake pops and candy, each waiting to be safely packed for transport. A separate large box of items with Thanksgiving dinner staples, such as canned yams, gravy and corn, was quickly filling up in the corner of the pantry, to be sent via Priority Mail.

Surveying the organized chaos of my kitchen, hubby couldn’t resist weighing in. “Wow!  Look at all of this stuff!” he exclaimed, “Exactly how many bags are we taking with us?” As he sampled the goodies “to make sure they came out ok,” his eyes landed on the Priority Mail box. 

“Are you really mailing cans of cream of mushroom soup and green beans to Dallas?  You do know they have grocery stores there, right?  If you give her a call, I’m sure Katie would be delighted to pick up anything you might need.”

And there it was. As usual, I was seeking to be the best mother and grandmother ever - through food, of course. I unpacked the box that would never get shipped and realized I was, once again, emulating my grandmother. I couldn’t help thinking of the adage “the apple certainly doesn’t fall far from the tree.” 

And, speaking of apples, no need to send those either. I understand they have fabulous apple pies in Dallas, too.

© 2024  Annie Sokoloff