Every now and then I’d like to post here about the people who have inspired me in the kitchen. (Yes, I was the child who got excited about checking out the Martha Stewart Thanksgiving Special VHS from the public library.) So it is only appropriate to start these “inspiration” posts by discussing the person with the biggest influence on my adventures in the kitchen, my mother.
Since I’ve been living on my own I have developed the deepest appreciation and an incredible amount of respect for my mother’s ability to work a full-time job and put a home-cooked meal on the table every night. She made big Sunday morning breakfasts, your favorite cake on your birthday, the perfect Thanksgiving dinner, and enough Christmas cookies to feed an army.
I owe all my domestic talent to my mother. She taught me how to make french toast, roast a turkey, and frost a cake. She could whip up a meal without looking at a recipe card or using exact measurements, which I think is the true tell of a great chef. She got great joy from being in the kitchen, and she truly cooked and baked with love. Anyone who had the pleasure of eating anything she made could tell you this.
Every year when the holidays rolled around my dad would promise plates of her cookies to everyone we knew. She’d end up baking dozens of cookies and plating them up for my dad to deliver. The first Christmas after my mom had passed away it was clear not only was she deeply missed, but so were the baked goods. I can only hope to one day have the kind of reputation my mother earned in the kitchen.
When I started this post I thought I might share one of my mom’s favorite recipes. I started thinking of some of my favorite things she made, or some of the best stories I have of her in the kitchen. (At some point I must share the attempt at making peanut brittle, or our Easter cupcakes gone wrong, because every chef has some kitchen failures.) I could tell you her recipe for mostaccioli, or meatloaf, or chocolate chip cookies. I could tell you how she made the best french toast or managed to scramble eggs just the way I like it every time. I could give you the recipe she used for stuffing on Thanksgiving, or ham on Easter… Then I realized no matter what recipe I shared it would never come out just like mom made.
Note: This post was light on the sarcasm and sass. Don’t worry internet friends I will be sure to bake some extra snarkiness (yeah i know that isn’t a real word) into my next confection. 🙂