Ny maternal grandfather & grandmother have had a very significant influence on my life. If I had to rank which grandparent had the most influence, it would be my grandfather. He was the President of the Deacon Board of the church my family attended. And he was the Chairman of some county church organization for years and years. Sometimes he would take me along when he traveled on Saturdays or in the summer weekdays to one church conference or event or another.
I remember sitting and watching him speak in public. And I remember thinking, I'd like to do this too. And in part because of his role modeling, I do my share of public speaking.

I loved going to my grandparent's house. The living room was filled with books-in book cases and on tables. These books were not for show. They were read-I think more by my grandfather than my grandmother.

When I think of my grandmother, my first image is of her cooking. My grandmother and grandfather were from the Caribbean-my grandmother was from Barbados and my grandfather was from Trinidad/Tobago. One dish in particular that I remember my grandmother making was a fried pancake like pastry with cinnamon & sugar sprinkled on the top. This pastry was made in a frying pan. It was a dessert and wasn't part of the main meal.

This is the memory associated with that pastry:
When I was about ten years old, my sisters and I went to visit my grandparents. {my sisters=my twin sister, and one sister a year older and one sister a year younger}. The front door of my grandparents' home led directly to the kitchen, and the living room was right off of the kitchen. As was the practice then, the door was unlocked, and I remember us coming into the house, and seeing my grandmother in the kitchen cooking. I can't really recall whether my sisters stopped and gave my grandmother a hug or greeted her in any way, but I do remember that I went directly from the kitchen to the living room, looking for my grandfather. As I expected, I found my grandfather was in the living room reading a book.
I enthusiastically hugged and greeted him. But my grandfather had noticed that I hadn't properly greeted my grandmother. He said something to the effect of how do you think your grandmother feels, standing over the stove cooking for you and you walk right past her? My grandfather told me to go back into the kitchen and greet my grandmother. Of course, I did so. I remember that at that time my grandmother was making that cinnamon pancake pastry. She gave me some and I think this was the first time I had tasted it or at least it was the first time I recall eating it.

As an adult, I have tasted pastry like that at a Native American pow-wow and at an East African picnic [in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania].
It's interesting to me that this Caribbean dish is found in those different cultures. And I don't know what any of these cultures call it.

And whenever I come across this pastry, it reminds me of what a small world we live in.

And it reminds me of that day my grandfather taught me a lesson about taking time to showing proper respect to and appreciation for others partly because their feelings could get hurt if you don't and also because it is the proper and right thing to do.

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I'd love to know the name of this Bajan pastry {pastry from Barbados]. Does anybody know it?