Over time my son was conscious of what he ate, forgoing beef burgers for turkey and limiting sugar. I made several turkey burger recipes, some with chutney, roasted pears, or other elaborate ingredients but my kids request the original simple recipe from Everyday Food magazine, “Our Favorite Turkey Burger.” Everyday Food, 2003.
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“When you lose a parent, you lose your past, when you lose a child, you lose your future.” Quote from the internet, I do not know who the author is.
“Cooking done with care is an act of love.”
“I’m just someone who likes cooking and for whom sharing food is a form of expression.” Maya Angelou
Cooking together is what makes family dinners so enjoyable for me, and I will accept what interaction I can get from my family in the kitchen. Without people, there is no purpose for cooking, and without interaction, cooking is a lonely task.
There is significantly more time to obtain the ingredients, prepare the meal, and clean up, then the time sitting at a table eating. So why all of the effort? It is in the journey of being together, the community ritual of creating something you will share with love. There is joy in creating pleasurable food events, which if done right, pleases all of your senses.
The food my mother fed me provided the nutrition I needed and satisfied my hunger pains, but that is not what I remember when I think of food.
I grew up in a lower-end middle-class household with four siblings in mostly rural mid-west towns. I am second to the youngest. There are seven years between my oldest sibling and me and six between me and my youngest.
Family meals were a family affair. My Mom did most of the cooking, but we each had a role in helping. Food was not extravagant, but I remember it being exceptional. Most meals I am sure were ordinary, but to me, they were outstanding and a show of love.
There was a period where my Mom did not work. I remember many times coming home from school to a freshly made pie. My favorite pie is sour on sour – sour cherry from my grandmother’s tree with rhubarb from the back yard. Other favorites were German chocolate, and the traditional pumpkin and apple.
Growing up, for a period of time, we baked bread every Saturday. There were a variety of types, and unfortunately, I do not have a recipe for any of them except the cinnamon rolls. My favorite way to eat the bread was shortly out of the oven still warm and smothered with butter, sometimes peanut butter. Oh, the joys of being young and having a fast metabolism.
I carried the tradition forward to my family. I make the cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning, refrigerated overnight, so it is an easy pop in the oven to serve them warm after opening presents. We did this the last Christmas at home with my son, and I have those memories and photos fresh in my mind.
I grew up in the mid-west, so beef was always served on Christmas, and Turkey on Thanksgiving. Saturday night was steak night served with baked potatoes topped with sour cream and chives. For a while, my father was the manager of a hog farm, and I remember having pork cooked every traditional way.
When I think of the holidays, my memories are the food and family time together, preparing the meals, and playing cards games while eating dessert.
Sure there were fiascoes, I think my Mom would laugh back at them now because they are still fond memories, and she learned through failure. There was the time she and my dad grilled the turkey. It took forever to cook, and it is the only dry turkey I remember. Another year, she made a ham in place of a turkey. We were living in a trailer house while waiting for our house to be built. A car broke down, or something and the ham burnt. A sign not to break tradition.
Dinner was served on my mother’s, china, crystal, and good linens with matching linen napkins. Couples no longer put china, crystal sets, and linens on their wedding registry. It may be out of style, or too expensive, but in the fifties, it was a traditional wedding gift, so my mother has lovely sets. I inherited her china, which my daughter will cherish as well. She has relayed to me she too will formally set the table when entertaining as it is our tradition.
For Christmas, my Mom made fudge, divinity, and sugar cookies, along with quick bread, and other trendy cookies from recipes shared by family and her friends.
What I know now, having children of my own, was that my Mom cooked to show us her love. We were a family of seven, and not well off. I remember times of financial hardship, but I never remember being hungry and meals were special.
I asked my daughter what foods are happy memories, and she shared a long list. I am not able to ask my son that question, but I think there are some cross-overs from his sister’s fond food memories.
My son loved meat. After he moved out of the house, if I really wanted to encourage him to join us for dinner, I would fix something grilled. He enjoyed grilled steak, beef burgers, and turkey burgers, chicken wings, and brats. He also enjoyed a few more delicacies such as grilled oysters on the 1/2 shell, grilled prawns, and scallops.
As he got older, he participated in the kitchen preparations for big dinner parties. He was the designee for making French bread crostini’s with garlic, and the stirrer of sauces. One holiday dinner, I heard him tell my sister that the goat-cheese herb sauce he was stirring to prevent separation from the cream fraiche, was his new favorite way to have roasted potatoes. He was a master of blistering the peppers and caramelizing vegetables which went into pureed sauces. He grilled the sweet corn in their husks, so all sides were evenly cooked with the perfect amount of charring.
In my children’s early teenage years, we began a tradition of having prawns with cocktail sauce for Christmas Eve. It was a whole family affair, and they were particularly useful when I could give them a knife. The cocktail sauce has sixteen ingredients, the bouillon has twelve, and the garnish has four, served in a martini glass.
My son loved good food, and I think I inspired that. What is meaningful is to see how he shared that love of food with his friends, whether they came to our house, he hosted at his apartment or ate out with them.
Over time my son was conscious of what he ate, forgoing beef burgers for turkey and limiting sugar. I made several turkey burger recipes, some with chutney, roasted pears, or other elaborate ingredients but my kids request the original simple recipe from Everyday Food magazine, “Our Favorite Turkey Burger.” Everyday Food, 2003.
I would double the turkey burger recipe and send home half with my son, with the request that he bring back my Tupperware container. Eventually, I became wise and bought cheap containers because I never got them back, no matter how much reminding. When we moved his things out of his apartment after he died, I opened up a lower kitchen cabinet and fell to my knees. There were all the containers, nicely staked.
On one occasion after a family dinner, we were in the driveway talking before both children headed out. My son walks out of the house with the whole container of left-over turkey burgers. My daughter stops him, and says, “Your not taking all of those.” He smiles, knowing he got caught. They both went back into the house and split them up so each had left-overs.
When we celebrate my son’s life, we serve those turkey burgers to our guests. When we stay with extended family, we cook those burgers. I will never again get to experience another family dinner with him or see his face as he eats something he enjoys. Those memories I can only take with me as I think, “Do I really want to cook?”
It has been hard the past year and 1/2 to bring myself to cook anything. The refrigerator is filled with half-empty take-out containers and prepared food from Costco.
I still have reasons to cook. I can show my love, especially to my daughter as her future past is my present.
I asked her what happy food memories she has, and the list was long. Through this conversation, I learned I am showing her love through food the same way my mother did for me. Here are a few from her list, until I said, “Stop, I have enough.”
The next time you have an opportunity to cook for someone else, think about how you want to share that experience and express yourself. Start by reviewing recipes, watch a cooking show or documentary on food. Take that inspiration and let the menu form then walk into the kitchen.
You can read other stories on the theme of food in these posts.