Cinnamon and nutmeg permeate the air. As soon as I get out of the car I know Grandmommy already has the pumpkin pies in the oven. She always starts with them because they take the longest to bake and the longest to cool. I love that smell!

Baking day is my favorite day. The first Saturday in November we meet at Grandmommy’s to bake all the fall goodies for the upcoming family gatherings. Some of them will be frozen for Thanksgiving and maybe Christmas, but some of them we get to eat today.

The list of goodies is long. We’ve been working on it for months. Everyone’s favorite is on it. Pumpkin pies for Mom, sweet potato pies for Granddaddy, pecan pies for Daddy and Jeremy, coconut pies for me, egg pies for Grandaddy Robert, chess pies, cakes, cookies, brownies. You name it, and we’re probably going to make it today.

Each year, Grandmommy tries to add a new recipe to our list. She says it’s important to try new things while we honor the old traditions. She always tells us the stories of our favorite dishes as we cook. If a new recipe becomes a favorite the story of how she found it will be added to our traditional story-telling when we make it again next year. I wonder what recipe we are trying this year.

As I run to the door, Mom yells, “Don’t forget to ring the bell!”

“I won’t!”

I always get to the front door first. Grandmommy and Granddaddy’s house is one of my favorite places in the whole world. As I reach the front door, I ring the doorbell, careful to use our special family signal so they know it’s us. I hear Granddaddy call out from the living room, “Come on in. The door’s open!”

I burst through the door and in my excitement, I almost ran right over Granddaddy. He had chosen that exact moment to bend down to tie his shoe, or running over him would not be even a distinct possibility. “Woah there, Kristi Lou, the kitchen’s not going anywhere! Slow down before you hurt yourself or somebody else!” he says with a laugh as he grabs me for a big bear hug.

“I’m just excited! It’s baking day, Granddaddy. There’s lots to do!” I chuckle as I hug him back.

“Go on in. Your grandmother’s waiting. Does your mom need help getting the twins and Jeremy out of the car?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t wait.” I head to the kitchen as Granddaddy heads outside to the circle drive to see if Mom needs help getting my siblings out of the car so they can help with the annual holiday baking too.

I dash into the kitchen bubbling over with excitement. Grandmommy has the counters covered with ingredients. The smells of cinnamon and nutmeg that I detected in the driveway are stronger here. They mingle with the aroma of pumpkin and sugar. I can’t wait to sample Grandmommy’s pumpkin pies. The recipe makes two, so we usually sample one as dessert or snack on baking day and save the other for later.

“Hi Grandmommy!” I declare with joy as I see her pulling the first pie from the oven.

“Sweetheart, stand back, this is really hot. Let me get it to the cooling rack and then I’ll give you a hug.”

“What’s next on our list for today?”

“Oh, I was thinking we might switch from pies to cakes for a little while. How does a nice carrot cake sound? I think you’re big enough now to help with peeling and grating the carrots, and your mom can get started on the cream cheese frosting while I work on putting the other ingredients together.”

“Oooh! I love carrot cake! But what will the twins do to help with that? They’re not big enough yet to chop or grate things, are they?”

“No, but they can help measure and stir. We’ll all work together to get the cake in the oven. We’ll let Jeremy grease the cake pans if he wants to. If he doesn’t, then he can go count cows with Granddaddy or watch television in the den.”

Grandmommy gets the pies situated on the big cooling rack on the kitchen table and then reaches over and gives me a hug almost as big as the one I got from Granddaddy. I hear Mom talking to Granddaddy in the dining room, so I know that the twins and Jeremy are inside now too. Sometimes I wish this day could just be me and Grandmommy, but most of the time, it’s fun for all of us to be here.

We all agree that carrot cake should be the next thing we get started making. Mom pulls the ingredients for the cream cheese frosting out and places them next to the small hand mixer she will use to create the creamy goodness that will top the moist, almost spicy carrot cake. While she’s gathering her ingredients, she hands me the bag of carrots, and the bowl I should use to catch the grated pieces.

Grandmommy gets the twins situated to either side of her. Jeremy decides to sit near me for a while and supervise, which is usually what happens at the start of baking day. He likes to pick up any carrot peels that miss the trash and put them back in the can. It sounds silly, but I like peeling carrots. It’s fun for me, and I’ve done it for a little while now at home for soups and things. This is the first time Grandmommy has trusted me to do it for her beautiful carrot cake though, and I’m proud to have such an important job.

After I get the carrots peeled, it’s time to grate them. I set the grater in the bowl and get to work. Mom and Grandmommy both say, “Be careful and don’t grate your fingers!”

We all laugh because they said it in unison. I help Jeremy grate some of the carrots before they get too small. I want him to be part of baking day too. After all, he loves to eat the goodies as much as we all do.

About halfway through grating my carrots, Grandmommy says, “Kris, I forgot the nuts. They’re in the pantry. Can you get them for me?”

I happily get up and walk to the pantry to get the walnuts to chop for the carrot cake. This cake would not be as good without nuts. I open the pantry door and stop in my tracks.

Grandmommy comes around the corner, “What’s taking so long, Sweetheart?”

All I can do is point. The beautiful emerald encrusted box I found on the shelf sticks out like a sore thumb among the cans, jars, and boxes. Grandmommy doesn’t miss a beat, “That old thing? Don’t you worry a bit about that. Come on back to the kitchen. We’ve got a cake to bake!”