Grandmothers cooking.

One of my favorite smells is garlic. I think one of the reasons is because of my grandmother's cooking. My grandmother is from Syria. She grew up in America during the depression cooking and feeding her younger brothers and sisters. Every scrap of food mattered. She had a unique style when preparing traditional Mediterranean cuisines. Some of these cuisines were things like Tabouli, baba ganoush, stuffed grape leaves and hummus. After I was born she would continue to cook these dishes. All family members from both sides of the family could not figure out what made my grandmothers humus or baba ganoush better than any other hummus or baba ganoush they've had before. Even close friends all considered those dishes, and the way my grandmother prepared them, to be the best they ever had. My mother and other relatives would try to mimic my grandma's style but could never quite get it right. When they would ask her what they were doing wrong, she would say,"I da know, just add garlic."
I remember coming home from school on certain Fridays when my grandmother would visit and walk into a house full of food and garlic aroma crawling off the walls. Most of the time there would only be two to three people around to eat; however, there was enough food to feed a large family. This must have been my grandmothers years of growing up in the environment and conditions she did that were shining through. There were always leftovers. I can smell garlic just thinking about it. Although my grandmother has been getting older, her cooking has remained the same.