The Chow-chow

I ate a bowl of black-eyed peas made even more delicious by a large and heaping spoonful of chow-chow. I grew up with chow-chow. I remember both my Granny and Grandmother making chow-chow. I don’t recall with what we ate it, perhaps a bowl of black-eyed peas, but I do remember their chow-chow. Their chow-chow was different, although both were delicious. They both contained all types of shredded stuff, most of which I did not recognize. I can recall the smell, which was strong, like pickle juice. I could not tell the difference although I knew that I liked both. I did not have a favorite. It really did not make any difference what their chow-chow contained or how it was prepared, I knew it was made and offered in love. I am certain that love was the magic ingredient that made their chow-chow, as well as all their cooking so special and delicious. Isn’t it interesting how a bowl of black-eyed peas and some chow-chow bring back such wonderful memories. Thanks Granny and Grandma.