Thursday, January 15, 2009

Hot Dog Memories

I opened the fridge to discover my father had purchased a package of hot dogs. Surprising myself, I let out a whoop! of glee and danced around like a small child. Giggling at my reaction and curious about it because, generally, hot dogs are not my favorite thing to consume, I carried the package to the counter and debated about how I would cook it.

Boil? Brown?

Bar none, if I'm gonna eat a hot dog, browning is my favorite.

So, I went with the browning.

I placed the skillet on the burner and turned on the stove. Relishing in the feeling of the knife slicing into the meat and easefully gliding through, I had a wash of memories flood over me. Grandma Faye is the one who had taught me to do a hot dog this way.

I find myself with tears in my eyes and I am all of a sudden eight years old, standing by her in front of the old fashioned stove, learning to brown hot dogs. Tears running down my face, I listen to the hot dog sizzle against the surface of the heated pan until it's the right time to add Grandma's secret ingredient: just a tiny bit of water which mixes with the juice from the meat and creates a overall, even, glimmering brown color.

I watch the dropplets skitter and dance across the hot surface, creating a symphony of pops and crackles in perfect harmony. And I cry.

I miss my Grandma.


Cele said...

Oh, I wish I had grandma memories like that. Now I'm going to go chow down a broiled cheddarwurst, you made me hungry.

word verification: Flanism (is that a Dutch witicism?)

Phoenix Touch said...

Yes... you had mentioned something in the reply to one of my comments that your grandma was difficult. I feel sad about that. I'm hoping your cheddarwurst was yummy! Now I'm hungry again!!! :) ...good captcha! LOL

Shelly said...

I have those missing my Grandma moments quite often, so I know how much they can take over your whole heart. I miss Grandma Faye too, and I am sure she was smiling as she smelled that hot dog sizzle.

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