Mom's parents were poor as fuck dirt farmers but got damn could my grandpa cook.
They had 9 kids so when we all got together for cookouts there were a grundle of us but it was always the same meal. Fried chicken, Dutch oven potatoes and Dutch oven peach cobbler.
It was an all hands on deck affair. Once you were about five you were allowed to go chase the chickens. At 10 you could watch them get their heads cut off. At 12, it was your job. There girls then de feathered.
Chicken was fried in the Folgers cans full of bacon grease. Potatoes and onions from the garden in another dutch oven. All sliced razor thin on what I can only assume passed for a mandolin in the 30's or whenever my grandpa got it. They would splurge and put a few slices of Velveeta on top at the end. Salt and lots and lots of black pepper.
Peaches for the cobbler were from the orchard.
What I wouldn't give for one of those dutch ovens. And one last serving of those potatoes. But my mom was the youngest and shit was all claimed by older siblings/cousins after they died.