"I Yam what I am"
--Popeye the Sailor Man
If my daughter Kelsey made up a song and sang it on Thanksgiving, it would have to be the "Ode to Dandad's Famous Yams" song. She would sing it strong and she would sing it loud. She would sing it with much emotion to try to illustrate through vocal interpretation her unyielding passion for Dandad's Famous Yams. She would openly sing it while she mashed the boiled yams and lovingly blended in the well beaten eggs, sugar, vanilla extract, and evaporated milk. She would joyously hum the tune while mixing up the brown sugar/flour/melted butter/pecan pieces topping mixture and sprinkling it on top of the yams. She would impatiently pace back and forth, thinking this song in her head, while it baked in a 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes. And when the oven timer beeped, she would ecstatically dance to the oven door, pull out that most incredible and delectable dish and immediately "test" it (wink, wink) to make sure it was fit for human consumption. She would be tempted to declare that it is not, but it is just not possible to make a bad batch of Dandad's Famous Yams. Oh, the joy! The rapture! The beauty that is Dandad's Famous Yams!
**DISCLAIMER**
Kelsey did not approve this message. (but she does really, really love Dandad's Famous Yams.)
