Growing up, my great grandma would fuss at me every time I “helped” her make kolaches and goodness gracious that woman could make some kolaches! I have yet to fully enjoy a kolache like I used to, since she passed because, no one made them quite like her. Kolaches were a staple of my childhood, as well as a Texas favorite! I mean, this Czech/mex kid here lived for holidays simply for the fact that there would be homemade kolaches and tamales overflowing the table! Poppyseed was and always will be my favorite, followed by cottage cheese kolaches (sounds gross, but they were delightful) granny also made prune, (gross) Apple, lemon and cherry but I never touched those, saved those for the grown ups. I can remember being about 5 years old and having more flour on myself then on the actual kolaches. But even though I didn’t necessarily learn how to make kolaches, it was the bonding and spending time with granny that I loved the most as a kid. To watch her put so much effort into every little detail of these yummy pastry delights, even though I didn’t know it then, was like a metaphor for life. You love something so much, and you want your product to come out just right and be something you are proud to serve your family with, then every little detail is important. The effort she put into these little kolaches was something I never had seen before. Every little detail was important to the overall product. If you skip the yeast, the kolaches wouldn’t rise. Too much yeast, the kolaches would be out of control! Mix up the salt/sugar ratio…hurl! Bad flour? Throw the whole thing away cause there was no saving it. Same prep went in with her homemade noodles and boy let me tell you, granny could make a mean homemade chicken noodle soup it soon became the only part of thanksgiving/Christmas dinner. 86 the turkey and dressing and give me the soup! So back to those noodles though, to prepare them she would first make the dough, then let it rise in these great big bowls with her kitchen dish towels over them and don’t think she wasted that time that the dough was rising, simultaneously she was making us kids lunch and watching her soaps and honestly probably working on a quilt all at the same time. Wonder Woman right there! After the dough rises, she’d roll it out and cut them into strips, or noodles and put them on newspaper in the sunroom to dry all day. The best thing about those noodles was the way there was no uniform to them. Sometimes you’d get a long thin one, other times you’d get a short fat one, but they were all equally delicious! Granny’s projects, were always all day projects. She never took shortcuts, and that’s the thing. This day and age we are all about finding the shortcuts. I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m always looking for a shortcut! I work in the afternoons til late evening then I workout until the early morning and then most days I sleep til 11 or 12 get back up and do it all over again. I don’t want any parts of the a.m. If granny was around, she’d be up at 5 getting everything done throughout the day and sleeping at night like a normal person! As far as kolaches go, I wouldn’t have the patience not to mention the patience enough to do something that took longer than an hour to prepare but hey that’s just me. And to be honest, an hour is stretching it. You’re talking to the kid who seasons chicken breast and throws it in the oven and just kind of prays it comes out right! This blogger leaves you with this question though, in a generation based in instant gratification, who’s going to make the kolaches?