I was chatting with a friend the other day and we talked about the Southern custom of taking food to the family when someone dies. I didn't know until well after I was grown that in other parts of the country that's not done. People may actually hire caterers to provide food after a funeral. Wow.
In the South this is sort of how it goes. Phone rings. Mama answers. "Hi, oh dear. Bad news. Oh no. That's terrible. Is everyone at the house? Okay, let me look in the freezer and I'll be over there in just a little while."
My mother often made extra food -- chili, spaghetti sauce, soup, etc. -- and froze it. When something happened, i.e. a new neighbor moved in, a family welcomed a new baby, someone died -- she pulled it out of the freezer, thawed it, and took it to the house.
Sometimes that would generate stories.
A cousin of Dad's lost her husband and she wasn't really a cook but she had a number of grown children, so Mom bought a beef roast, and carrots and potatoes, and slow cooked everything in the crock pot, then took it over. She put everything in a large pan on the stove and turned the burner to low. The cousin told her later it was such a nice gift because nobody else brought anything that first day, and as her children came in they would get a plate and eat, and because it was a substantial amount of food, Mom's food fed like a dozen people over the course of the evening.
I'm sure the next day they were inundated with casseroles, cakes, etc.
When my grandfather died in 1972 he and my grandmother had just moved to a new house in a small town where they had never lived before. We all wondered what food might be brought over, if any. My grandmother's brother had lived in that town for many years, so as it turned out a lot of people took food to the house. Unfortunately, nobody brought over any meat. Lots of casseroles and cakes but no meat. Mom ended up buying something and taking it back to the house. I don't recall if it was fried chicken or ham, or what it was. In 1972 options were limited.
That experience led directly to Mom pledging to always take meat to the house when someone dies.
When my father died in 1996 we got tons of food at the house -- a dizzying array. Most of it was given away to family members, because we couldn't possibly eat it all.
A lot of fried chicken came into the house, and a lot of it was awful. Unless you can deliver really well-made, delicious chicken, take something else. If you don't cook, grab a bucket from KFC if that's the only option.
The greatest food gift came from a neighbor my brother and I didn't really know. Mom and Dad knew her and her husband, who was a judge. I was outside when she came walking up the driveway and she handed me a bag and we chatted a few minutes. She said rather apologetically "It's nothing fancy, just some mac and cheese." She left, not realizing how thrilled I was to hear the words "mac and cheese." I quickly walked into the house and found my brother and we had a whispered conversation about her wonderful gift.
She had made wonderful mac & cheese -- the real kind -- and divided it up into 4 of the little aluminum loaf pans you can buy at the grocery store. What made that gift so perfect was that it was simple comfort food -- nothing fancy or elaborate. We decided to freeze two, eat one and hide one in the fridge. Brother and I ate one that night. It was delicious. The other two were thawed out later and enjoyed. By giving us something easily identifiable and homemade and comforting, she was so brilliant. I thought using the little loaf pans was really clever. Right after someone dies, you are inundated with food and overwhelmed with grief. When things calm down, weeks or months later, it's lovely to have delicious food to pull out of the freezer and enjoy. To me, mac and cheese is almost a one dish meal.
We had seen so many strange casseroles brought to the house from well-meaning friends, and so many platters of veggies and sandwiches. It was July, and of course it was Augusta so it was really hot. One lady brought by a platter of sandwiches from a fancy food shop and they were covered with edible glitter. They were not really any better than the sandwiches from the regular stores, but after a few hours of being poked at and handled the edible glitter made the sandwiches look really bizarre and unappetizing.
So the lesson to be learned from this blog is simple: when someone dies, take mac and cheese! [unless there's a lot of lactose intolerance in the family]
#southernfuneralcustoms, #funeralfoodinthesouth, #southernfood, #adviceforfuneralattendees, #realmacandcheeseisbest
