This is my grandma, Amy Robinson Reeves, aka "Momer." You pronounce it "Mommer" but somehow the misspelling stuck. Momer was not rich but when she died, she left me the best gift I could ever ask for: an old cigar box full of her recipes. Some were written by hand and others clipped out of magazines and newspapers. Many called for oleo and told you to chill dough in the icebox. She lived her whole life in Birmingham, Alabama so lots of her recipes had that Southern quality--wholesome, unfussy, and terrific. Just like her.
Momer, me, and my brother Tom in a decade long ago.
Check out Tom's knee socks, and what a shame my jacket
covers up my awesome Miller's Outpost t-shirt.