Family secrets.

So, there's this thing.  Called "Grandma jelly."

My entire childhood can be summed up in this phrase.  Grandma jelly.

In the backyard of my Grandma's house, there grows a gigantic fig tree. And every summer, the fig tree grows and grows, until it's so heavy with figs that we don't have to worry about fighting the squirrels, birds and bugs for the figs because we already have buckets and buckets of them.  It is from this tree that Grandma Jelly begins.

I don't know how my Grandma decided to make Grandma jelly, but I'm glad she did.  It's a mixture of fresh figs, mashed and mashed and mashed (we did it by hand, and she still does, because food processors are only good for certain things) and mixed with sugar and strawberry gelatin, cooked until perfect, then canned.  The result is this figgy-berry-chunky-seedy-spreadable-wonderful-concoction that was christened "Grandma jelly."

The tree hasn't been producing as much as it has in the past, which means that Grandam Jelly production has slackened somewhat.  Combined with the fact that she just doesn't have the demand that she used to, with the grandchildren almost all grown up and gone away, the stock of Grandma jelly has dwindled.  But she still makes it, fresh batches that leave the house with a lingering sweet fruit smell for a week afterwards, from the end of June to middle of July when the figs are at their ripest.

I love Grandma jelly. There isn't a single thing on this earth that it isn't good on.  Waffles, ice cream, PB&J sandwiches, hell, I've even used it as a sweet glaze on steak and chicken before.  It's amazingly versatile. I don't know what she does, or how exactly she makes it, but it's seriously one of my favorite things in this entire world.

R. has never had Grandma jelly.  But I managed to get a small jar from Grandma to give to him (how to tell she really likes him, yeah?).  It may come to him opened with a few spoonfuls taken out, but it will make it.  And he will enjoy Grandma jelly for the first time. I'm considering whether or not he likes it being a deciding factor in whether or not I can spend the rest of my life with him (I'm kidding! ... Maybe.).

My favorite story to tell of the power of Grandma jelly is this:
I had a supervisor at a store I worked at one summer who I really liked, J.  She was a tough broad who had a sweet side when she wanted to show you, and I really enjoyed working with her. One day we were bored, the store was empty, so we started talking about our shared passion for cooking.  Being summer, I shared that I was excited for the first batch of Grandma jelly to make it's appearance, and J. begged me, begged me to get her a jar.  Grandma relented and gave me a small jar for her, only because J. had just found out that she was pregnant for the first time, and my Grandma is a sucker for babies and their pregnant mommas.  J. rejoiced when I brought her the jar, and then two days later, she was on me like a drug addict begging for more -- she had used up the whole jar, on everything she could think of.  Waffles, ice cream, pancakes, bologna sandwiches (Hey, she was pregnant!), and she wanted, no, needed more.

Are there any foods from your childhood that are family staples like Grandma jelly? What are they?  How are they unique?

-A