kitchen memories

best apple pie

“In the childhood memories of every good cook there’s a large kitchen, a warm stove, a simmering pot and a mom (or a grandmother).” _Barbara Costikyan (& me)

In our kitchen there are memories aplenty. The crock Dick’s Grandmother Lebsock used for pies, cakes, bread, Kraut Runza,and ever so many other wonderful treats is a daily part of our cooking. Each time we use this big bowl a special memory springs to mind.

hand-made noodles

We also have a pasta machine that worked hard making German egg noodles in Dick’s childhood home until his mother Anna was beyond the arduous task of hand-made noodles. We’ve used this prize, off and on over the years, with varying degrees of success, but every time we try Dick recalls the beds ‘at home’ covered with drying noodles and the wondrous meals resulting from them. Nothing…absolutely nothing from the grocery store can hold a candle to the memory of how those perfect noodles tasted.

The Trail Cafe, Las Animas, Colorado

It’s interesting that while Dick’s kitchen memories go back through his mother’s kitchen, to his grandmother’s house, mine go past the small town diner where I grew up hiding out or waiting tables during my high school years. Nothing in those memories is particularly memorable in a good way. Instead my memories go back to my Auntie’s farm; to her kitchen filled with comfort, warmth, delicious tastes and wonderful smells.

Cherry Pie in Arizona ’09

On a more current note…

one of my favorite kitchen memories has to be the opportunity to share my pie baking skills with my God daughter, Laurie, a few years ago. I’m pretty sure she still thinks the only way to bake a pie is to put the filling in a ‘store-bought’ crust, but that day was a special memory for both of us.

So.o.o I’ve said all of that to say this…I hope you have a collection of special ‘kitchen memories’ of your own. And, I hope that you are making wonderful memories for your little people, too.  While those memories may not seem especially special right now, the day will come when they will speak of home, and comfort, and love. And isn’t that what cooking is all about really? Breaking bread together in an atmosphere of love….

see ya soon