Happy Food Memories To All

I was composing this post in my head as I grated 12 cups of cheddar cheese.
OK, it was more like 3 cups, but my arm felt like it was 12.
I'm not cooking a turkey, and I am not hosting 23 people, but I am providing an important part of the meal... an appetizer. You know, because we won't have enough food at lunch.
A cheese ball with crackers to be specific. A homemade cheese ball. Don't get all impressed... it's so simple.
Which got me to thinking.
A younger cousin of Dan/Daddy requested the cheese ball. Requested that I make it. I love her to pieces, and I am happy to oblige, but anyone could have made it. Her mom has the recipe; her aunt (my mom-in-law) makes them, too. But she requested mine.
I know for a fact, that my cream cheese/cheddar cheese/spices concoction tastes no better than theirs would.
There's something about a person contributing part of the meal that makes a memory.

I have vivid associations of food with certain people. And I know I'm not alone.

My mom makes the very same cheese ball at Christmas, and it doesn't feel like Christmas without it.
My Mamaw's macaroni and cheese... no family meal is complete without it.
I remember my cousins requesting my mom's hot Velveeta dip every New Year's Eve.
I remember craving my aunt's layered Mexican dip.
No one can make a hash brown casserole taste as good as my Granny could.
Any one of us can make those things, but there's something special about the same person making it.

I have always known food and memory were connected, but I never really thought about how certain foods tie us to memories of certain people.

Now I understand why my cousins begged for my mom to make the same dip.
So, Rachel, the cheese ball is in the fridge.
I'm honored you ask me to make it.

I hope you are all with the people you love over the next few days.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving.