A Sure Sign of Home

My mochocpiefullther brought her North Carolinian roots to our California home in every way she could.
 
Although her cooking did not veer far from what she knew how to do (or what my father liked), she was exceptional at making fried chicken, gravy, cornbread, deviled eggs, potato salad, iced tea, and chocolate meringue pie—none of which I have tasted better by anyone else or anywhere else. And although I made them with her at times, I still cannot recreate her magic on any of them. My gravy is close, and my deviled eggs and potato salad are decent replicas.
 
Today I am lighting a candle for my sweet mama’s birthday and will endeavor to make a chocolate meringue pie. This would please her greatly as I feel certain that she considered pie to be a staple, not to mention a requirement for any true hostess’s welcoming arsenal.
Mostly though, I know she saw it as a sure sign of HOME.
 
She would have been 92 today. I feel her guidance everyday and am grateful for this gift. The least I can do is serve her up some pie.
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