Erin E. Moulton

by Leah Airt

I make my grandmother’s banana bread when I need to ruminate on balance. It’s a comforting staple when I’m stuck in a season of over-giving or lack of motivation. The recipe itself produces a deliciously balanced bread with butter, banana, and warming spices. The woman behind the recipe maintained her kitchen as a place of refuge for me throughout my teens and twenties when I (or anyone) needed balance.

Her recipes were recently digitized and distributed by her youngest son – I love flipping through the pages and seeing the water spots, burn marks, and gentle handwriting. Her cookbook was well loved and always by her side at the hearth – it’s an honor to be able to share her recipe and bring her legacy to life in new kitchens.

Banana Nut Bread

NOTES:

This recipe is best baked in a skillet to give a crisp bottom and ensure that anything drizzled runs through the bread, but has a nice place to land.

If you are using a skillet, even if it’s well seasoned, you want to line it with butter to give it more of a crisp.

Imogene Kilpatrick

Imogene grew up in rural north Georgia in an area known as Piedmont which resides right at the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. It’s an unusual liminal topography caught between elder hills and rolling flats.

It’s an area known for roadside stands and unincorporated towns that hold more meaning to the locals than what you’d find on a map.

Imogene’s story begins in one of those cliche foothill towns – unincorporated Rabbittown.

A statue of a rabbit still stands at the center of the Rabbittown stripmall. Only a small cafe in the mall carries the long-forgotten place name.

Growing up, I loved the idea of Rabbittown – I spent most of my days in my head dancing in my grandmother’s garden. I loved when grandmother would call to me out of her kitchen window with a proclamation that we must travel to Rabbittown. I would nod politely at the tulips that outlined her garden and dismiss myself from the towering wisteria as I skipped off to join her. Imogene always allowed the trip to Rabbittown to be an adventure and I enjoyed her stories of weaving flower crowns and playing in the fields.

Grandma’s father owned a nearby farm and she would tell me of how she’d skip through fields to sit on the fence and look out over the rabbits. We would walk down to where her fence used to stand, and I’d squint, blocking out the Georgia sun, as I tried to imagine thousands of rabbits hopping along the landscape.

Growing up, most of Imogene’s dresses were made by her mother– and sewing was a skill she was required to acquire. Despite the outwardly conservative appearance and good graces of her Methodist background, her mother was a rebel with a very specific cause – to push her daughters far beyond the Appalachian hills. Her mother insisted that Imogene excel in school and read as much as possible. The final family home (located in Winder, Georgia) was purchased due to its proximity to the local library. Imogene attended Young Harris College where she earned her degree in early childhood education.

Imogene was the mother of three boys and remained dedicated to keeping all of them occupied and moving forward throughout her life.

She was also a full-time elementary school teacher who managed a busy household. I remember when I was entering the workforce, she stressed to me that “work-life balance” was a myth – she insisted that I re-frame my responsibilities as “work-life management” and own all spheres that I maintain or choose to pursue.

Her Kitchen

People loved gathering in Imogene’s kitchen – the smell alone (regardless of the time of the year) would draw people to her door. She always had something cooking, and I cannot recall a single bake that was less than absolute perfection.

Imogene believed that a hearty meal topped off with something sweet could mend any broken spirit. I know that part of the mending at her table was her listening ear that accompanied the food.

She’d often pull me into her chair, while something stewed, and hold my hand while we chatted.

Her Legacy

Imogene was never formally trained in a culinary or pastry school – she was self-taught in the kitchen and an avid reader of ANY cookbook that would cross her path. She collected recipes from newspapers, magazines, or other cooks around her. Her final collection consisted of ten shelves– all lined with cookbooks that had been earmarked or lined with decades of clippings.

I am fortunate to have a small box that contains some of her favorites that she tucked away for me – she meant for me to take it to college, but I did not discover it until after she had passed away.

In addition to her collection of recipes in the box–and her digitized recipe book– I also grow generational seeds passed to me in a dedicated ancestral garden. The seeds came from her and her mother’s gardens and I’ve tracked down a few more from her time-period in the Georgia Piedmont region.

Imogene lives on in this garden. The quiet shield of her gentle protective spirit is a presence always welcome over my shoulder.

• 

If you enjoyed this life story, be sure to comment, like and subscribe so that you can keep up with other fascinating life stories from Soulspun Kitchen. If you make Grandma Kilpatrick’s Banana Nut Bread, be sure to tag @erinemoulton and @wildfirerootsgenealogy on Instagram, #soulspunkitchen.

If you’re interesting in guest blogging reach out to Erin at Trackyourdead@gmail.com.