I’m nostalgic for turnip greens and Mountain Dew.

I was fortunate to have both sets of my great grandparents throughout the bulk of my childhood. My Mamaw and Papaw Roberson lived a long drive out into the country on a modest farm that hosted plum trees, rusting farm equipment, and multiple fishin’ ponds. I don’t remember eating much homemade food with them, but I do remember Mountain Dew and off-brand sandwich cookies.

Every day, my Papaw Roberson would hustle down the long dock of the pond nearest the house to feed the catfish. I remember other family members catfishing in that pond in later years, but I think my Papaw solely treated them as pets. On days we youngsters were visiting, we would excitedly tag along to witness the fishy fray.

Once the invite was extended, we would immediately head into the kitchen to grab a cold Mountain Dew and a handful of cookies, both chocolate and vanilla for a proper selection, before trailing Papaw down the dock. Once settled in at the edge of the dock with our treats, handfuls of fish pellets would fly overhead, and ghastly catfish faces would appear from the depths. Snack-time for all of us!

My other great-grandparents, Mamaw and Papaw Lee, lived on a farm a bit closer to home. They kept a pretty extensive garden, and I have fond memories (less fond at the time, perhaps) of picking corn and shelling peas. I also vividly remember being stung by a bee for the first time in their backyard. My Mamaw Lee, never a friend to a fool, scolded, “That’s what you get for waving your hands around at it!”

Weekend family meals were a regular thing, and turnip greens were almost always on the menu. They were simply made but apparently inimitable. To this day, I’m chasing the flavor of Mamaw Lee’s turnip greens every time I make a pot of greens.

She also made a mean dinner roll; our family has preserved her recipe, but the rolls will never quite taste the same. They’ll never taste like they did when my cousin and I (around 8 or 9 years old) snagged leftover rolls after lunch and ran out to enjoy them while visiting the cows at the fence, only to witness said cows moseying through the backyard a few minutes after our return to the house. This was around the time Who Let the Dogs Out was incessantly playing on the radio, so the song was promptly revised by the family to suit the loose cow situation. I still maintain that we did not let the cows out!

What comforting, nostalgic food do you seek out in adulthood? Can you sate the craving, or are you forever seeking turnip greens like me? At least Mountain Dew is readily available…

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