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| MORE MOM MEMORIES |
| THE JOY-CAFÉ |
I grew up with a mother who experimented with food and gathered recipes to herself from the most
astounding sources from all over the world. I actually feel sorry for most kids now-days whose
parents only know how to order take out. Everything mom made was homemade from main
dishes to side dishes to desserts. OH desserts! Don’t get me started on her desserts. They
were amazing.
Flakey buttery homemade pie crusts and not a store bought cake in sight. Icing that you’d clamor
to lick the bowl for and hearty breads and delicate pastries fit for a king. I have so many amazing
recipe memories from my childhood that I am a total food snob.
I 100 percent abhor most store bought and bakery cakes. Now my sister-in-law Sharon did bring
in a bakery cake for my parents’ 50 th wedding anniversary that made me glad I didn’t live near
that particular bakery (yummy and beautiful), but that is a rare thing. Of course, I live in the
boonies so most bakeries around here… well, it’s better left unsaid. My point is that my food
memories are eclectic and different from most people’s food memories. My dad’s army career
garnered my mom some deliciousness!
As I’ve been going through mom’s kitchen, sorting through and packing up years of accumulation,
I have enjoyed taking a trip down memory lane with her cookbooks (Pillsbury Bake Off anyone?)
and boxes stuffed full of recipes cut out of magazines, newspapers (THAT’S where I got that trait)
and scribbled down on every sort of paper that could be grabbed when someone shared a recipe.
Mom taught me how to bake and each book is like an old friend that I am so glad to invite to come
live at my home now. I’m sure most of the stains on them are from my messy little hands, too!
Maybe my brother’s too but he’d have to come personally to my house and wrestle me for those
cookbooks – which we used to do when we were little with the leotards and towel caps… umm …
that’s another story and broken lamp for another time. I digress.
Today’s ramble is about memories and how foods are so much a part of our life. We hear names
of recipes, smell certain ingredients, or taste flavors that burst into your mind with a host of
memories from your childhood – and smile fondly, remembering the last time we ate it or how our
mom taught us to cook it.
And while I am sad my mom moved on to heaven, in a way she will always be with me through her
cook books and the dishes she used to bring about the memories that will last me a lifetime. I
take out the pie plate she baked with and remember the cool things she did with the left over pie
crust - creating a pasty (filled with whatever she dreamed up but usually chocolate chips) and
dusted with lots of sugar. I think my brother and I liked those pasties even better than the pies
themselves.
Memories are an important part of our lives, and in the passing of a parent, you are overwhelmed
with them. I realize some people don’t have good memories of their parents or childhood but I
remember my mom telling me one time that she wanted to raise my brother and me so we would
remember family dinners, and to have food memories that would remind us of our childhood.
Looking through the old cookbooks and the pots, pans, and baking dishes, I realize now how well
she accomplished that. I hope I passed that on to my own son, as I’m sure Sharon did with her
children, too.
In this hustle bustle we live in, I think these type memories are being tossed aside for convenience
and to save time for the current generations. Most kids remember Mickey D’s rather than family
dinners around a table. I think these type memories will become a thing of the past except for the
few who hold on to the traditions that were passed down to my generation.
That’s sort of a shame, you know?
astounding sources from all over the world. I actually feel sorry for most kids now-days whose
parents only know how to order take out. Everything mom made was homemade from main
dishes to side dishes to desserts. OH desserts! Don’t get me started on her desserts. They
were amazing.
Flakey buttery homemade pie crusts and not a store bought cake in sight. Icing that you’d clamor
to lick the bowl for and hearty breads and delicate pastries fit for a king. I have so many amazing
recipe memories from my childhood that I am a total food snob.
I 100 percent abhor most store bought and bakery cakes. Now my sister-in-law Sharon did bring
in a bakery cake for my parents’ 50 th wedding anniversary that made me glad I didn’t live near
that particular bakery (yummy and beautiful), but that is a rare thing. Of course, I live in the
boonies so most bakeries around here… well, it’s better left unsaid. My point is that my food
memories are eclectic and different from most people’s food memories. My dad’s army career
garnered my mom some deliciousness!
As I’ve been going through mom’s kitchen, sorting through and packing up years of accumulation,
I have enjoyed taking a trip down memory lane with her cookbooks (Pillsbury Bake Off anyone?)
and boxes stuffed full of recipes cut out of magazines, newspapers (THAT’S where I got that trait)
and scribbled down on every sort of paper that could be grabbed when someone shared a recipe.
Mom taught me how to bake and each book is like an old friend that I am so glad to invite to come
live at my home now. I’m sure most of the stains on them are from my messy little hands, too!
Maybe my brother’s too but he’d have to come personally to my house and wrestle me for those
cookbooks – which we used to do when we were little with the leotards and towel caps… umm …
that’s another story and broken lamp for another time. I digress.
Today’s ramble is about memories and how foods are so much a part of our life. We hear names
of recipes, smell certain ingredients, or taste flavors that burst into your mind with a host of
memories from your childhood – and smile fondly, remembering the last time we ate it or how our
mom taught us to cook it.
And while I am sad my mom moved on to heaven, in a way she will always be with me through her
cook books and the dishes she used to bring about the memories that will last me a lifetime. I
take out the pie plate she baked with and remember the cool things she did with the left over pie
crust - creating a pasty (filled with whatever she dreamed up but usually chocolate chips) and
dusted with lots of sugar. I think my brother and I liked those pasties even better than the pies
themselves.
Memories are an important part of our lives, and in the passing of a parent, you are overwhelmed
with them. I realize some people don’t have good memories of their parents or childhood but I
remember my mom telling me one time that she wanted to raise my brother and me so we would
remember family dinners, and to have food memories that would remind us of our childhood.
Looking through the old cookbooks and the pots, pans, and baking dishes, I realize now how well
she accomplished that. I hope I passed that on to my own son, as I’m sure Sharon did with her
children, too.
In this hustle bustle we live in, I think these type memories are being tossed aside for convenience
and to save time for the current generations. Most kids remember Mickey D’s rather than family
dinners around a table. I think these type memories will become a thing of the past except for the
few who hold on to the traditions that were passed down to my generation.
That’s sort of a shame, you know?
