I ate Grandma's Leg

Welcome to my new blog post. I’ve been waiting to start a blog for a long time.

Here’s a little something about me. I’m originally from Portland, Oregon born and raised. Currently, I reside in Atlanta, Georgia.

Oregon is where I fell in love with food, at the young age of six, I fried my first batch of chicken. From there my mom couldn't keep me out the kitchen. Here's a little story about how it all happened.

 Oh, how I loved looking at her mother's photo album especially the ones from when I was a baby. There were pages and pages of photos of my grandma Beasley, with a chef hat on in the kitchen cooking, from birthdays to Christmas.

My grandma had 15 kids, so you can imagine all the all of the photos we had. My mom was the baby girl and the 13th child.  There was always a feast of food with lots of families. I saw these photos many times but they never got old. Growing up big events were normal in our home.

Grandma Beasley and my mom were the reasons for my love for cooking. The importance of homemade cooking, family, and memories wasn't taught to me. It was normal a way of life! From the photos, little sharlietta could imagine the savory spiced aroma of crispy golden brown fried chicken. She could taste the first crunchy, juicy, and moist bite off a leg. These were the times when everything was still made from scratch. These techniques were passed down from a mother to daughter expecting to be done for more generations.

After reminiscing on photos of holiday meals, Sharlietta one day was inspired to ask her mother if she could help. At the big age of six, Sharlietta was eager to get to help do all kinds of prep. On this particular day, Sharlietta did like she always does and sat down in the kitchen with the photo album. They made small talk, back in forth about the pictures, until the fried chicken page appeared. Sharlietta got excited because her mom had macaroni in the oven!  She knew when her mom was making fried chicken because that’s the only time she made macaroni and cheese.