When I was growing up, it was every Sunday. Like lildago's grandmother, my own grandmother made Sunday dinner (which was really lunch, but we called it dinner round those parts.

) every week. All the family would be there. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and even the ones that had divorced the "blood" relatives.

There would be between 30-40 people there every week.
Granny would make any number of things and it was all fantastic and all made from scratch. My favorite part was always dessert, though. Most weeks, she'd make three kinds of meringue pie. Chocolate, lemon, and coconut.

Occasionally, she'd make a hot cobbler with vanilla ice cream melting in it faster than you could eat it. Sometimes she'd just cut up a watermelon in the summertime. The big ones that would make a loud Crrrack! as you split it apart. Summer also sometimes brought homemade ice cream. That was the best but was pure torment to wait on. My dad and uncles would stand around the ice cream maker-talking, laughing, or smoking- while they kept pouring ice and/or salt into the machine.
So...yeah. Any one of those meals were a perfect meal for me. Most of that group has scattered around the country or passed away. It all seems almost idyllic now.

I know I'd give almost anything to have another.
