Sasee Magazine

My grandmother, Mammie, has lived alone for over twenty-five years. But you wouldn’t know it to look inside her fridge. On any given day, one might find several types of meat, two heads of cabbage, potatoes, carrots and a few bricks of cheese. Usually, she has a specific meal in mind when she purchases these items.

“Why don’t you and Craig come on over for dinner?” she’ll ask. “I’ve been making cabbage and a roast.”

That’s a hard meal to pass up. So, if we aren’t busy, we indulge.

“What did you do today, Mammie?” I’ll call and ask her.

“Well, I washed a few loads of laundry and did some dishes. Oh, and I put on a pot of homemade vegetable soup. You want Craig to come by and pick you some up for dinner?”

“Of course, that sounds great!” I say. And then I call Craig and ask him to stop at Mammie’s. Sometimes he has already passed her town, but there is no such thing as “driving out of the way” when it comes to her cooking.

Mammie cooks for all of us – her sisters, her four children and their spouses, her nine grandchildren and their spouses and her three great grandchildren. And though we sometimes joke that her house contains more food than a nuclear fallout shelter, we don’t know what we would do without Mammie’s meals. In fact, we all have our personal favorites.

Aunt Connie loves Mammie’s sweet potatoes. They’re peeled, sliced, fried in bacon grease and then topped with butter and sugar. Susie likes Mammie’s homemade chicken rice soup. My uncle prefers Mammie’s beef roast, seasoned to perfection and tender enough to cut with a fork. My cousins like Mammie’s fried chicken and stewed potatoes. And my mom is a big fan of her cabbage and potatoes.

Each of us has a favorite “Mammie” food. And several times a year, she fixes our favorites and invites us over individually. I’m not quite sure how my favorite came to be. I don’t remember the first time I ate it, but I was probably very young. It’s not something that I eat anywhere else; I certainly don’t order it at restaurants. As a rule, I don’t even eat that much meat.

Oh but Mammie’s meatloaf is the exception to the rule. It is the most delicious food that has ever met my mouth. Mammie starts with high-quality ground beef and adds in a mixture of breadcrumbs, onions and tomato sauce. After it has cooked, she carefully tops it with homemade French fries. Then (this is the best part) she drizzles the fries with a gooey, ketchup garnish.

Her meatloaf puts any high-dollar, gourmet meal to shame. Best served when fresh from the oven, the first bite is always soft and tender. The edges, a bit browner than the rest, have a hint of candied sugar. And the French fries, meant to accompany each bite, are just as good when eaten by themselves.

Mammie’s meatloaf tastes amazing each time she makes one. It is consistently delicious – the same cannot always be said about foods from popular restaurant chains and grocery stores. But I’ve always known that Mammie’s meatloaf is in a category all by itself.

Last July, Mammie called to ask me what I wanted for my birthday. That was an easy enough question to answer.

“I would like a meatloaf! Can I have one?” I begged like a little child.

“I think I might be able to do that,” Mammie said.

For my twenty-ninth birthday, my husband, my parents and I gathered around Mammie’s table. We ate slice after slice of meatloaf and heaping helpings of cabbage and potatoes. Then, she gave me my own meatloaf to take home. I didn’t want to share it with my husband, but I did. It was a fabulous birthday.

This year was the big one. I turned thirty.

“Let’s go out to a nice dinner in Virginia Beach,” my husband suggested.

“Yeah. This is a big birthday, honey. Don’t you want something special?” my mom asked.

I did. I wanted Mammie’s meatloaf. That would make this birthday special.

Mammie went shopping for ground beef, potatoes and a couple heads of cabbage. And on the night of my birthday, we gathered at my parents’ house for our meal. It was a scrumptious dinner.

Maybe if I had her recipe, I could explain it more precisely, and its delectableness would be easier to share. But right now I don’t have it. And I don’t need it. That’s because Mammie’s meatloaf cannot be replicated. It wouldn’t be nearly as good if it were made by anyone else.

I guess that’s how most people feel about their favorite foods. The cooks, more so than the ingredients, make the dish special. Mammie’s signature meatloaf is the most succulent food in the world. And as long as she feels like fixing it, that’s what I want for my birthday.