My family had food at it's center. I can close my eyes and see Mama at the stove in her apron, Daddy sticking his fingers in pots to taste things and Mama playfully slapping his hand away, which would erupt into tickle fights and giggling. Food was happiness. Food was connection. Food was comfort. Food was celebration.
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Here is my gorgeous mother when she was 17. The best part about Mary Lou was that she was even more beautiful on the inside. |
My mother grew up in a large family of 7 children and learned to cook for that many people. Thus when she cooked for us, she cooked for an army even though we were only a family of three; Mama, Daddy and me. But, my grandparents lived next door and we had a steady parade of Aunts, Uncles and Cousins stopping by to visit, so Mama was always ready for drop in guests with an array of yummy treats for them to eat.
As we cooked in the kitchen, Mama told me stories of the recipes she was making and those matter as much to me as the delicious food at the other end of the recipe.
Since two of my family of three are now with Jesus in heaven, I decided I should share these recipes and stories so they don't end with me.
I hope you try them and that they will bring you as much joy as they did to my family.
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