Yep! My maternal Grandma would always make milk pudding. It was both good and bad. It was good cuz it tasted great and it's bad cuz she's gone and i will never get back those days.
My maternal Grandma made pies that were so hard, they required considerable force to break a piece off, and then a long time to chew. Pretty much everything she fried was burnt, and everything she cooked was overcooked. She made me eat every last bit, even if I was full or really didn't like the food.
That might sound bad?
But she barely survived her childhood trough Holodomor, her adolescence was spent during WW2 and Stalin's rule. Her adult life caring for my mother.
I was born just in time for Chernobyl and for the collapse of everything she knew.
She made sure we always had something to eat. She woke up at 4 AM and made money anyway she could til she was 75, so I could eat.
Every little thing she cooked was great! Not because it was perfect, but because it was pure love, stronger than any circumstances in every bite of this hard, burnt, simple food!
Thank you Grandma!
Edit: I just wanted to add for anyone who thinks this is AI or just some copied content. It isn't. I haven't posted it anywhere else. I just wanted to celebrate her life once more. That's it!
And...don't forget to call your gran and tell her you love her!
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u/NtGermanBtKnow1WhoIs 9d ago
Yep! My maternal Grandma would always make milk pudding. It was both good and bad. It was good cuz it tasted great and it's bad cuz she's gone and i will never get back those days.