Food and family go hand in hand, especially if you are Italian. Some of my favorite memories are sitting around the kitchen table, sharing a meal and just talking. It’s amazing how the hours seem to slip by when you are perfectly content. Food has always been a comfort throughout my life, but luckily not in a way that has landed me on a reality program. But it is something you can count on, a constant. Parties call for antipasto trays and dips. Sunday dinners are for pasta and fresh bread. Sick? There is a soup for that. Want to waste away the hours catching up? Coffee and cake are on the menu. It’s simple and good, two things that seem few and far between these days.
I myself am not a great cook despite noble efforts. I seem to fare better in the baking realm as in most cases, if you follow the recipe you will get the desired result. Cooking however, I have learned is more about instinct or a particular skill that I either don’t have or have not yet mastered. In fact, I sometimes get anxious when I cook or try a new recipe as I never know how it will turn out. I am not a risk taker and too cautious with my seasoning. I also won’t even attempt a recipe if I don’t have 99% of the ingredients or there are more than 6 steps, something I am trying to work on.
I did have one moment of glory a couple of winters ago, after I saw Julie & Julia. I decided to attempt Julia Child’s boeuf bourguignon. Seventeen ingredients and PAGES of instructions…the fact that I even considered it was a triumph in itself. But by some miracle, 4 ½ hours after I sliced my first lardon…I had an edible reward! It was everything it was supposed to be; melt in your mouth tender, rich and full of flavor! I had never been so proud of anything I have ever made, before or since. It was a culinary masterpiece…and I will probably never make it again. No wonder this recipe was geared towards housewives in the 60’s…who the hell can spend half a day in the kitchen!?
My mom on the other hand, has always been a shining example of a typical Italian mother. Though she worked full time, there was never a night we went without a home cooked meal. She would come through the door and head straight into the kitchen. Fast food was never something you’d find in our house. And besides the brief period where she was really into Bisquick recipes, everything was hearty and delicious and enough for a dozen people! “Just in case anyone stops by” she would always say.
Her specialties included some obvious dishes (spaghetti sauce simmering all day) and soul food straight out of the south (fried chicken and mac n' cheese) and Sundays always ended with dessert. Even the simpler meals exuded love which made everything taste better. I would stand next to her in our tiny kitchen, shoulder to shoulder and watch her as she cooked, helping her where I could. Hoping I would pick up on some of the methods and secrets she seemed to have stored in her head.
When it was time for me to leave the nest, she gave me a handmade cookbook with all my favorite dishes she had made countless times over the years. It was laid out scrapbook style decorated with food and cooking themed stickers. My favorite part were the titles of the recipes. A few examples: Joe’s Birthday Meatloaf (always my husband's special request for his celebratory dinner), Aunt Toni’s Weird Neighbor’s Chocolate Chip Cake (self explanatory), and Kick-Ass Macaroni & Cheese (truth). Not only was this already a loving and incredibly thoughtful gift, but the personal touches made it all the more special. It is one of my favorite gifts I have ever received to this day. But then I tried to cook from it.
Patience and following directions aren’t really in my Mom’s wheelhouse. And lucky for her, she was blessed with that aforementioned instinct when it comes to cooking, so she has never really needed recipes. But both of these attributes would have come in handy when creating a book meant to teach and be followed. First up was the meatloaf.
I immediately knew I was in trouble when the recipe called for 3 lbs of ground beef. THREE POUNDS?! It is only my husband and I and I was not expecting anyone to drop by, let alone a baseball team. But I figured I could just easily halve the recipe so I moved on to the next item under ingredients, 1 to 4 eggs. Why such a wide range of possible egg usage? I couldn’t understand what that one meant so I gave her a call. “If it’s too dry you add more egg” she instructed. “Well how wet or dry should it be?” I asked. Her answer - “Just mix it until it looks right.” Having never made this before I didn’t know what “right” should look like but I guess it was time to wing it. Thank goodness I scanned the rest of the page before popping it into the oven. There was a step that said “add in onion powder”…onion powder was not listed under the ingredients. Despite the comedy of errors the dish turned out just like hers! One bite and I immediately was back at home at the kitchen table with my family.
I have since made multiple recipes out of her cookbook, adding post it notes with revisions or important additions of missing information, like the size of the cans of tomato sauce I need for “Alyssa’s Favorite Chili”. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. All of these things remind me of my Mom and even though I cook from it often and am usually happy with the results, it will never be as good as hers and honestly, I wouldn’t want it to be.