Kentucky confuses me sometimes. Last night we (Mike, Dwight, Bruce and I) had dinner at the McKinney Depot Restaurant, which is on Busy Bee Street in beautiful downtown McKinney. Don’t blink.
Walking across the parking lot to the restaurant we passed a red pickup truck with the driver’s side window open. There was a rifle in full view on the seat.
Inside the restaurant there were ashtrays on all the tables and a framed copy of The Ten Commandments on the wall, further making this Detroit city girl’s head spin, but in a good way.
I hadn’t been to The Depot since around 2000 when I had a special evening there with my dear Aunt Della, who died in 2002. I felt her presence with me last night and wished she had been with us again.
Aunt Della, who I hadn’t expected this to be about, was known far and wide for her blackberry cobbler. I don’t know what set hers apart from anyone else’s, maybe the love, but it was and still is in my mind, the best.
After dinner we noticed desserts listed on a white board on the wall. Chocolate pie, pecan pie, blackberry cobbler, strawberry cheesecake…what? Blackberry cobbler? In the place I was last with Aunt Della??
Chocolate pie for Dwight, pecan for Bruce, and blackberry cobbler for me. Mike had more catfish. It was “all you can eat” night and he could eat another few pieces for dessert.
Chocolate pie is another of those that you have to get just right and Dwight’s was close to what my mother used to make. But the blackberry cobbler — of course it wasn’t as good as Aunt Della’s and I knew it wouldn’t be, but for a few moments it brought her closer to me and I could almost feel her sweet old hand in mine.
For a walk down memory lane, I recommend the blackberry cobbler at the McKinney Depot.