Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.

Wow. Just wow. This year really was the best Thanksgiving ever. EVER. And this is saying quite a lot, coming from a girl whose favorite holiday, hands down, has always been Thanksgiving. Those mashed potatoes were quite certainly small, fluffy pieces of heaven.

How’s that for a teaser? You’ll just have to wait a while longer for the post about Thanksgiving Dinner proper, because there’s a surprise in the works. For the moment, I’m going to talk about all the other food I ate over Thanksgiving weekend. Actually, I’m just going to talk about breakfast.

I feel like I should have paid attention to the signs—I should have known that this weekend would be all about the breakfasts when the occupants of the car my GF and I rode down to Virginia in all cried out ecstatically when we spotted the one lone Waffle House in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I ate buttery, wonderful grits. It was definitely an omen.

I had every single one of my favorite breakfasts over Thanksgiving. My mother is a queen among women, and knows exactly what I want to eat when I come home for a visit. Here’s the daily breakdown:

-Thursday: fried eggs, bacon, and fresh baked blueberry muffins. I’m not a muffin person, but my mother makes the best muffins in three states. They are light and not too sweet, and filled with blueberries (though where she found blueberries this time of year, I’m not sure).

-Friday: MORE bacon (I love bacon), scrambled eggs, and my mother’s biscuits. I always feel quintessentially Southern when I say this, but it has to be said: no one—no one—makes biscuits like my mama makes ‘em (please supply the drawl in your head). They are perfect. She uses a recipe from an old 1930s cookbook for young wives (written by Meta Givens, for those of you who are interested). I continually wish I had the recipe…but I often refrain from getting it. What if they don’t turn out right?

-Saturday: the tour de force: dried beef gravy and pancakes. Now, I know the gravy should go on the biscuits. But in my family, it goes on pancakes. And it is sublime. Dried beef gravy—chipped beef to some of you—was one of the grandfather’s specialties. It’s a family favorite made from milk and flour and dried beef and onions. Not for the vegans, vegetarians, gluten-allergenic, or the faint of heart.

Maybe my next projects (besides learning to deal with tofu) should be to be like my mom in a new way—cook like her.