The Golden Meat

My Granny hosted Sunday lunch almost every weekend growing up. It always tasted like “home,” but my favorite Sundays were the ones with “the golden meat.”

She was born the 15th child in a large family, tucked deep in the rural parts of South Louisiana. She married a hardworking man who was as devoted as they come. She ran a daycare for many years, and tending to things - people, food, laundry, children - is simply in her nature. 

Even as a little girl, I noticed how she managed her kitchen and sat at the sewing machine and worked the iron - all with an ease I couldn’t imagine ever having myself. It just seemed to come so naturally to her.

I never pictured myself becoming as domesticated as she is. And I certainly never imagined having four boys and a girl of my own, just like she has. (God love her - my mom wasn’t the kitchen mom or the ironing mom… and that was just fine. She had plenty of other amazing gifts—just not the “domesticated kind.” IYKYK.)

But, God has a sense of humor. I married a Southern gentleman who, six months into marriage, looked at me one evening and bravely asked, “Will you ever cook rice and potatoes?”

I had no idea how to cook either one!

Then, one day, his Granny passed away and I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. So I picked up the phone, called his Aunt Frances, and begged her to teach me how to make the golden meat.

I’ve always been good with words and I rarely miss a chance to say what I mean. But that day, I didn’t need to say anything. The golden meat said it for me. And ever since, I’ve been learning when to speak… and when to just serve the gravy.

Today, after I picked up the two big boys from camp, I listened to their stories, held my breath as I unpacked their sweaty, stained clothes, and stood at the stove… tending to a gravy.

I used to think you were either born domestic or you weren’t. But now I know: domestication becomes you when you have five kids. You learn by living it. You develop the skills out of love - and sometimes out of survival. 😜 What once looked so natural in her was probably just hard-earned ease. By the time I came along, she had already done the learning.

And now, somehow, I’m doing it too.

I love the way our current culture is talking about wellness & healthy eating. And I love that so many people are exploring health in a holistic way - making space for spirituality, for sobriety, for vulnerability. These conversations are good and holy and needed.

But there’s still nothing quite like a Granny gravy with the golden meat.

Sometimes the best way to say I love you, or we missed you, or welcome home… is to ladle it onto a plate.