Recently, I went with family to Sylvia’s on Lenox Ave.  I had a cousin from out of town visiting and eating at Sylvia’s was on her NYC to do list.  I know I’ve seen Sylvia’s logo on various products back home—on boxes of fish fry and hush puppy mixes, on bottles of hot sauce and seasoning and on cans of greens and black-eyed peas.  However, I didn’t make the connection between the products and the restaurant until I sat down at the table and saw the logo on a menu.

We even went to the restaurant in style—via a NYC yellow cab!  We didn’t have to wait for a table and that’s always a plus no matter what city you’re in.  We sat down.  It took me awhile to decide what I wanted but I finally made a choice.  I’m not a food critic and I won’t pretend to be one.  The food was good though.  The top of our table was filled with plates of fried chicken, string beans, potato salad, grilled catfish, macaroni and cheese, candied yams, fried shrimp, smothered pork chops, collard greens, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, sweet potato pie and ice cream.  You just don’t find this kind of food in too many restaurants these days.  This is the kind of food I’m used to seeing in the kitchen at home.  The food was good and as a family, we enjoyed talking, catching up and hanging out on a Friday night.  My cousin purchased an apron from the restaurant and they threw in two matching potholders for free.

I kept thinking of one person throughout the meal—my grandma who passed away some years ago.  She was one of the best cooks and while growing up, I thought many times that she should have gone into the restaurant business.  She loved cooking and I can still see her standing in the kitchen over the stove, cooking some of the foods that we ate at Sylvia’s that night.  That’s what that meal reminded me of.  My beloved grandma.