The Joy of Cooking

Having been a fan of cooking in the kitchen for some time I find it amazing it took me so long to buy a book that in some circles is considered the back bone of any cook book collection.  My newest found escapade into the artistic chemistry that is creating food has finally brought my desire to buy this book to the fruition.

So while perusing the book store the other afternoon I finally decided I should  buy this book, and I did.  There are a whopping total of 4500 recipes in the book, a bible thickness, and a funny touch only one silk ribbon book mark, though my first meal made from the pages required 2 different pages with my recipe.  Cooking has become an escape as my last few posts have discussed but a little more for me.

My mom, who happens to live overseas, came in town for her yearly visit.  My children have grown tremendously since her last trip nearly a year and a half ago, and my family grew by a beautiful daughter in that time.

My mom valued cooking for our family and equated her cooking to her expression of love for us.  We'd eat all sorts of things, always with little spice and never with butter.  My mom, a child of the 50s and 60s grew up with the advent of the dreaded vegetable oil solid that is now a trans-fat nightmare of margarine, but I can't fault her for that, and it did after all give me the greatest pie crust yet with Crisco instead of butter or lard.  My mom who has become far less of an exploratory cook as she has aged was quite the explorer as I remember our dinners.  She would try anything and everything, her recipe index would likely provide enough meals to have a new one every night for the rest of our lives, and she would still tear out recipes from the food section on Thursdays.  My mom, as a house wife, knew the intrinsic value of eating as a family, and preparing fresh healthy food.  It even took my mom till I was nearly 12 to finally decide it was okay to get a microwave.

As my mom and I visited we noted how different we are, and the similarities between her and my other siblings.  But cooking and "dinner time" we do share.  She commented that I would be a great chef, and I disagreed, cooking for me is more about feeling and less about trying to figure out how to make money from it.  The time came for dinner and I made our kids a quick meal since we were having a late adult dinner due to my brother getting off work late.  I made braised stuffed pork chops with home made Italian stuffing.  It took me longer than I thought it would and the mess I made was worthy of a feast, not a simple dinner.  But as my brother and our wives with my mom sat eating our food, which I slightly over cooked, it did give me joy.  There was a joy to cooking.  I really loved preparing food for my family, I loved knowing that I made this from scratch, with herbs from my garden and it wasn't a quick 15 min. exercise in microwave heating, but rather a process that produced a delicious meal to be the backdrop of our family at table breaking bread.  It seems to me that when I spend a little more time creating a meal; it is more than just dinner.  It becomes a center piece to foster the building of relationships.