This is going to be an incredibly difficult post for me to write. I’ve gone back and forth and finally decided that sharing this is something I need to do for me. I’ve poured myself a whiskey and I’m just going to write like I was pulling off a band-aid and hope it makes some sort of coherent sense. I’m also hoping that these photos are in focus because it’s hard to tell when your eyes are puffy and red.
If you’re just wanting an incredibly delicious peach cobbler recipe then please go ahead and scroll down to the bottom now for the recipe. You won’t be disappointed. I’m incredibly biased, but it’s ridiculously delicious. Anyone, whose ever tried it has agreed with me.
It’s by far the best peach cobbler I’ve ever had in my life and I’m from the South so that’s saying something.
You may have noticed the lack of new posts here in my little corner of the world wide web for the past several months. You’d be correct, there have been few and far between new recipes since February when my world shifted. I haven’t been able to cook without falling apart. It’s not really a great idea to be around sharp knives when you can’t see through the tears.
On February 28th at 5 am I felt like I was sucker punched and could barely breathe. I lost my Mom that morning. The woman who was there for EVERYTHING I’ve ever done in my life isn’t any more and it sucks. No other word for it. It just sucks (she’d also be mad I used the word sucks because she hated that word).
My Mom is the one who taught me to cook. Who taught me to love food and to love sharing food. As soon as I was old enough to stand on a stool I was helping in the kitchen. Being in the kitchen reminds me of her and it’s still too raw. I’m not to the happy memories yet. I’m still struggling to believe it’s real and it’s not just a bad dream. I know in my head that I’ll see her again one day but my heart hasn’t caught up to the head yet. Isn’t that always the way.
The only thing of my Mom’s I wanted were her handwritten recipe cards. To me they’re priceless. It’s taken me until now to be able to go through her recipe box without falling apart completely. Every time I thought I was ready (cruel joke) I maybe made it through 5 cards before I was a blubbering mess and had to put them away before I smeared the ink.
My Mom was one of the best cooks I’ve ever known. She was always in the kitchen cooking up a storm. We joked she could feed an entire subdivision with the amount of food she kept in the house between the multiple refrigerators, freezers and pantry.
You didn’t go hungry around my Mom. Ever. Her Southern cooking is the reason I haven’t really shared any typically Southern recipes because mine don’t hold a candle to hers. Truth.
I’ve decided to go through and make her recipes and share them. She loved sharing food, it’s how you knew she cared for you and she passed that onto me. I’m the same way, if I cook for you I care for you. Plain and simple. I’m hoping going through and cooking her recipes and sharing them is going to get me to the happy memories and past the awful chest hurts hard to breathe painful ones that I’m having now.
I’m starting with her peach cobbler. Being from Georgia it seemed fitting. So here’s my Momma’s Peach Cobbler. I hope you love it as much as I do. She’d tell you to serve it warm with a scoop of (homemade because everything she did was homemade) vanilla bean ice cream.