James Burke
Being a grandpa is more fun than working
Besides being an avid gardener, my grandmother was a wonderfully good cook. As a new bride in 1929, just months before the infamous crash of Wall St., she and my grandfather settled down on a dairy farm in Orleans, MI.
Sometime during her early married life, she acquired a set of Guardian Service cookware. Made from cast aluminum, the extremely robust pots were desirable for slow cooking.
Gran’s tiny kitchen was short on storage space, so many of the pieces resided on the countertop when not in use. And from my earliest memory, I can still see them…either bubbling over with baked beans on the stovetop, or being pulled from the oven with a Sunday roast. From the looks of the patina on the outer surface, it’s obvious that her set was purely utilitarian…as most were back then. The dribble stains served somewhat as a badge of honor to the many fond memories of mealtimes past.
For the better part of fifty years, her Guardian Service cookware was a very special part of life. And after our Christmas 1989 celebration, her extended family finally outgrew her modest farmhouse. Subsequent holiday gatherings were held at a rental hall…and sadly, the food just didn’t seem the same.
I inherited my small piece from Gran some time ago, and the other pieces were distributed amongst the cousins.
For decades my pot sat on a shelf and served no real purpose, other than being filled with odds and ends and shuffled here and there as I needed more shelf space.
I had mixed feelings about drilling a drain hole in its bottom, but I fully believe Gran would be proud that I’ve given it a brand-new life. Not only does it serve a new purpose, but I also think of her (and her amazing meals) every time I see it.
JB
Sometime during her early married life, she acquired a set of Guardian Service cookware. Made from cast aluminum, the extremely robust pots were desirable for slow cooking.
Gran’s tiny kitchen was short on storage space, so many of the pieces resided on the countertop when not in use. And from my earliest memory, I can still see them…either bubbling over with baked beans on the stovetop, or being pulled from the oven with a Sunday roast. From the looks of the patina on the outer surface, it’s obvious that her set was purely utilitarian…as most were back then. The dribble stains served somewhat as a badge of honor to the many fond memories of mealtimes past.
For the better part of fifty years, her Guardian Service cookware was a very special part of life. And after our Christmas 1989 celebration, her extended family finally outgrew her modest farmhouse. Subsequent holiday gatherings were held at a rental hall…and sadly, the food just didn’t seem the same.
I inherited my small piece from Gran some time ago, and the other pieces were distributed amongst the cousins.
For decades my pot sat on a shelf and served no real purpose, other than being filled with odds and ends and shuffled here and there as I needed more shelf space.
I had mixed feelings about drilling a drain hole in its bottom, but I fully believe Gran would be proud that I’ve given it a brand-new life. Not only does it serve a new purpose, but I also think of her (and her amazing meals) every time I see it.
JB
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