Grandma’s Wooden Spoon
Stained and worn, a little dented on one side,
Grandma’s wooden spoon stands quietly
in a crock on the counter.
By itself, it’s a little sad,
not so pretty compared to those fancy stainless utensils
and fine, Damascus-steel knives.
Why on earth is it still there?
What good is an old wooden spoon?
But in Grandma’s knowing hands
the old wooden spoon becomes a magic wand.
Bits of fruit are stirred perfectly
And jam sheets off the edge of the spoon just so,
like no other spoon can do, to show exactly when the jam is done.
Batter is always better, smoother when Grandma whips it up with her old wooden spoon.
But the best is the fudge bubbling in the double boiler. When it’s done and spread out on the wax paper, we get to lick the pan – you can have the pan, I’ll take the spoon – it really does seem to taste better.
The aroma fills the whole house – and drifts right down the street, inviting anyone who’s hungry to fill their plate with Grandma’s stew: first toss the meat gently in a bit of flour then dump it, flour and all in the black-iron pot, already hot with a bit of oil; then stir it till the roux is thick and the meat begins to brown. Keep that bottom scraped so it doesn’t burn. Finally, add the vegetables and water. Stir it often – with the old wooden spoon – to keep it from sticking and let it simmer for an hour or two.
I’ve tried to cook like Grandma, but it never seems the same, something is missing even though I copy her recipe to the letter. Could it be the old wooden spoon?
With a wooden spoon, a mish-mosh of ingredients can be mixed into something wonderful. Everything is well blended and made smooth. With a spoon, a sample can be taken to ensure the product is perfect. And only with a spoon can you scoop and serve and make sure you get every drop. The spoon could very well be the best instrument in a kitchen, and the wooden spoon is the best of the best.
But, that spatula? That’s something altogether different. With a good, sturdy, flat spatula, you can chop up almost any big, stubborn chunk and finally get it cooking properly. And only with a spatula can you flip your food – or whatever else needs to be flipped. So, if you need to turn something over, it’s the spatula you must have!
Why is that wooden spoon still sitting in the crock along with all the new tools? Maybe it’s a reminder of Grandma’s love.
© Copyright 2025 MrsPiddles. All rights reserved.
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I simply adore this! It took me back to so many pleasant childhood memories. I actually have my grandmother's wooden spoon and my Mom's. You can't wear them out, and oh what memories they invoke! I licked those spoons clean as a child. That chocolate icing was always better if I got to lick it from those special spoons! Thanks for sharing this! Such a delight to read!
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Thank you for your kind words. I'm so glad you liked it. As much as I treasure my wooden spoon - my grandmother's given to my by my aunt because she didn't have daughters - I could never quite put those feelings into words. But when they came out with the beautiful wooden spoons and spatulas and all the cooking videos now use them, I just had to come up with something. And yet I struggled with this for months!
Now I can get back to the rest of my writing. I'm working on my second devotional right now.
What I love about this poem is that it's not actually about a wooden spoon...
My own childhood was different from yours, yet you managed to get the memory machine churning in my head, and just for that I'm thankful. Yes, Grandma loved me. She may not have been the best cook, but I cherish the memories of family dinners on Saturday with everyone still alive and gathered around the table (I'm in my 50s now, so I've experienced a lot of loss over the years).
What a lovely holiday poem. Thank you.
-Dan
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Thank you for your thoughtful words. Now that I think of it, you're right, it's not really about the spoon. It's been a while since I've seen my 50s and I understand about the loss. But it's not really totally lost when you recall the good and uphold the values. That's when it becomes legacy.
Write On!
MzP
This struck me as a love letter not only to your beloved Grandmother but to days gone by and The familial love we all share through food and recipes passed down. So sweet.
I wonder if you wanted to explore and expand on those feelings and any other specific memories of the dishes you were fed that tasted like love that were conjured from that spoon into the nurturing loving food your were fed at your grandmothers table. I woukd love snapshots of those moments evoked for you.
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Thank you for your sweet words and especially for the encouragement. I've traveled so very much that I don't have many artifacts. The spoon I have which once belonged to my grandmother, I received from my aunt just a few years ago. She only has sons and wanted the spoon to stay in the matriarchal line and I'm the oldest granddaughter. I treasure that spoon, and yes, I use it. Stew and beans just cannot be cooked without it.
I do have a sort of recipe. Grandma used to cook up a good muligan, which was a stew or soup with whatever leftovers she had. And she always tossed in an extra potato just in case someone stopped by and needed something to eat.
Write On!
MzP
This not only reminds me of my grandmother but of my mother. How she holds on to everything because it belonged to someone special, and she remembers who gave her what, when, and where...or what she'd inherited from whom, where, and when. Each item has a story of its own that conjures up another story. What I enjoy about these type of writing is the value we give to things. Not in a materialistic way, but because they connect us to people and especially those we've lost. Tangible things give meaning to the intangible. Your writing does this. I enjoyed it. Best, Clarke.
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Thank you so much for your kind words. It's true, the connection is very real. I feel it every time I cook up a good stew or pot of beans. In fact, Gramma will be helping me make a pot of black eyed peas today.
Write On!
MzP
This certainly isn't what I expected. It was so much better. It certainly took me back more years than I care to think about. Sounds like you were spying on my Grandma except that you left out how she could use it as her magic wand to settle us kids down when we were getting too rambunctious.
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Oh yeah! I left that last part out on purpose! I love that you were brave enough to mention that in this day and age. Just think what these young folks, well actually the authorities, would say if we admit we would even think of whaking an innocent child with such a cruel weapon! But, ya know, I lived and succeeded and I flourished under that lovely magic wand!
Thank you so much for your kind words!
Write On!
MzP
You've captured the old wooden spoon perfectly! As I was reading it I could see my own grandmother's wooden spoon stirring her chicken and noodles, her own fudge and divinity and sugar cookies. I saw my grandmother in your poem, my home on holidays and Sundays.
I have my grandmother's wooden spoon and use it often. Every time I use it, I think of her. And now I will think of this poem too.
LOVE LOVE LOVE this poem!
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Thank you for your sweet words. What ever would we do without the gifts of wisdom from our grandmothers.
Write On!
MzP
This is lovely. It made me think of those 2 weeks every summer that my parents would drop us kids off at my grandma's (their abbreviated summer vacation, haha). My grandma woke up at 4:00 am and would start making the buffet's worth of breakfast (I assume she made a deal with all her kids for the same 2 weeks because all of my 16+ cousins were on the same schedule). She never used any measuring cups or anything! She used the wooden spoon for something else entirely (but not on me cause I was a good little girl, haha).
That spoon is an heirloom, for sure. It should always be accompanied by this lovely piece.
xo - K
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Thank you so much for your kind words. Im sorry I didn't see this sooner. Been offline for a few months. May get back to it soon.
MzP
I found this in the "Poetry" genre, but I feel there is more to say here. With the sentences gradually getting longer and more descriptive, I can't help but wonder if you should turn this into a nonfiction or even fiction short story to allow for more service to the spoon. I'd love to hear more about Grandma's Spoon and the generations it withstands within the stories that are told.
It's an adorable poem, reminds me of my grandma, she is not with us anymore but I do miss her very much. I also have heard a lot about my mom's grandma although I never met her I know from my mother's stories she used to cook her all type of things she miss her a lot and her cooking too.:-)
What a good-looking poem! I thought it was great you were able to write about the great memories of your "grandma's magic wooden spoon" and about how it said everything about how she baked in the past in that day and age.
I liked how the whole process worked with her special skills laid out on the table with baking and making fudge. those are the priceless moments you carry forward with you in childhood and later on into adulthood as well. I thought it was rather clever how the grandmother with the old wooden spoon inspired so much memories from you and everyone involved and the fact she was able to whip up a good batch of baked goodies was the icing on the cake!
My only suggestion that would help your writing would be to savor the moment she bakes all her little treats with alittle more of what she does in the process. other than that it was great story for all and everyone to enjoy!
Marilyn Johnson