Grandma Daniels did not believe in that dusty, sexist adage about the stomach being the expressway to a man’s affections. She wasn’t concerned with the male appetite. And it showed in her one unbreakable rule of courtship.
Sitting at her linoleum-top table, she laid down the law to me as I ate another piece of her seven-layer chocolate cake. She slowly peeled an orange—her answer to an apple a day—and patted her mouth daintily with a napkin.
“When you go to a man’s house to meet his family for the first time, if they don’t give you two pieces of meat, you get up and leave,” she said firmly. She punctuated with pursed lips and a nod, her gray hair bun dipping in affirmation to her own statement.