Tea, lemonade, orange juice, and citrus slices—poured cold on a hot day, served in plastic cups, and topped with love.Tea, lemonade, orange juice, and citrus slices—poured cold on a hot day, served in plastic cups, and topped with love.

White cake, jam, Cool Whip, and berries laid out like a flag. A dessert that salutes the past and still sticks to your fingers.

A carved watermelon filled with fresh fruit, made with care and pride. Mom’s table centerpiece—and the first thing I raided every year.

Uniform dice. No mustard. Just potatoes, celery, onion, and love. The original, plus my version too. Either way, it never lasts.

No avocado. No fluff. Just ketchup, mustard, a proper sear—and always toasted buns. These are the burgers you grew up on.

Hot dogs grilled after the wreaths were laid—topped with Grammy’s sweet onion and relish, served on buttered buns, eaten standing in the yard.