Epiphany with Bread

I watched Oprah this morning as I folded uhmm about "cough" five loads of accumulated laundry. Pathetic I know. This episode of Oprah was an interview with Debbie Reynolds and her daughter Carrie Fisher. I laughed and I cried and then I laughed until I cried. It may be some hormonal issues at work coming through here but I still think it was a really good interview.

I plan on getting Carrie's book Wishful Drinking as soon as I can. Like tomorrow? So anyway as I was folding my heaping mound of laundry and laughing/crying along with Debbie and Carrie, I was also taking bites of the naan I made yesterday (recipe from Tasty Kitchen of course) which was nicely doused in cinnamon and sugar. Somewhere in that chaos, mid chew, I realized that this naan happened to be a favorite childhood treat of mine. It hit me that this delightful naan I had made with my own hands yesterday was just like the Indian Fried Bread my grandmother would have ready for my brother and I as an after school snack on occasion. I always looked forward to the fried yummy goodness and was happy with it only after it had melted butter and cinnamon sugar running off the sides. She always called it Indian Fried Bread, which I took to mean bread that the Indians/Native Americans cooked over an open fire in a cast iron skillet.(Okay, so I was in some serious need of a few history lessons). Huh, well how about that? The Indian portion of Indian Fried Bread referred to the Middle Eastern country far away from Southwest Kansas. Now I have been to restaurants that serve naan and I have eaten it, but never prepared it myself.........wait for it........except when I was making my version of Grandma's Indian Fried Bread!!!  So there lies the epiphany. This knowledge has put my grandmother in a whole new light. Well just imagine, we were eating Indian Fried Bread/Naan before eating Naan was cool. (The italics should be sung in your head to the Barbara Mandrell tune please.)

Naan will probably become a regular in our household again, or at least until I am sick of it. Though I'm sure I never will be able to eat it without thinking of several things.......my grandmother, Native Americans bent over an open flame or the size of Eddie Fisher's penis. ( Please see video.)