My Granny, some nostalgia, and some "truths of Southern food."

Sure, it's awesome when you can make food that is beautiful. And then some "food photographer" can make it look even prettier. However, I am of the belief that food doesn't necessarily have to be "pretty" to be awesome.

See, I grew up here in Georgia. Southern cooking constantly lives within my memory. Some even venture to say that this food and this culture runs in our veins.

My maternal grandparents are from Arkansas; paternal from Mississippi. They knew what good Southern food was and is. Seemingly simple "farm food" is really anything but. The regional differences matter; just as they do in every region of every country in the world.

In Arkansas, fried catfish and cornbread seem still to be the dinner of choice. In Vicksburg, Mississippi, catfish is fairly popular; but cuisine has a decidedly Cajun influence. Shrimp and grits, collard greens and pot likker, and Creole seafood still reign.

I love the fact that my parents come from backgrounds that are rich with food traditions. My Granny Fran made black-eyed peas and rice that were amazing. And my beloved Granny West made (and still makes) the best home fries, corn bread, and purple-hull peas in the world.

My Granny West (Momma's Mom) has always been so special to all of us. She always puts love into whatever she does; whether in her cooking, or her continual efforts within her own community.

I remember so clearly sitting around Granny's kitchen table, making sausage balls and oyster cracker snack mix. These were just two of many recipes that were holiday staples each year.

When we came home for holidays, we always got up early. We all wanted more time together than we had. And the smell of Granny and Granddaddy's house woke us up naturally anyway. It smelled like home; like a dream forgotten for a while, but then happily revisited each year. We woke to lovely smells: coffee (brewing since Granny woke at 5am), ham (cooking for the greens that would soon join them), and eggs (that Granny woke early to make for Granddaddy's breakfast).

Morning was forever magical in my Granny's kitchen. But so were all of the times with Granny. She remains an incredibly special woman; her love shows in so many ways.

I am so lucky to have her, still.