Cooking with My Grandson on Video

My grandson lives in Australia. I live in Ohio. It's fourteen hours apart, which means our "Sunday cooking class" happens on his Monday morning and my Sunday night.

He's eleven. We cook together over a video call. I prop my tablet against the flour canister and he props his against his mum's toaster. I teach him my mother's recipes: buttermilk biscuits, chicken and dumplings, a peach cobbler that won a ribbon at the county fair in 1971.

He's a messy cook. He gets flour on the camera. He narrates everything like a TV chef, with an Australian accent I find irresistible. Last week he made biscuits that came out perfectly golden, and he held them up to the screen and yelled, "Nan! Look!"

We can't hug. But we can make the same biscuits on opposite sides of the world, at the same time, and that's almost as good.