DAY 9

I once heard Tracy Gold~of Growing Pains fame~say she was afraid of butter. Just another of those usless bits of information cluttering my brain. I am afriad of many things...terminal illness, death, dogs,bungy jumping~ among other irrational fears, but fear of butter? When I take a stick of butter out of the fridge to warm to room temperature I see possibilities~I see shortbread waiting to be made. Warm golden on the edges, crunchy, sparkly sugar dotting the top of the cookies.I see it melting on top of a stack of gorgeous blueberry pancakes. I think of sweating onions, browning mushrooms, and frying eggs...there is no fear. For me when I cook I am fearless, it is about the only thing I can say that I never second guess. Give me a recipe and I can make, change it, turn up the volume and for the most part I end up with something deliously satisfying. It is a gift, what I can do~I am not classically trained~but I do remember once when I was maybe 10 or 11 and helping in my Aunts' kitchen, I was cutting an onion~I had cross hatched it and then cut it down the side and had ended up with a lot of small even square pieces...she asked me where I had learned how to do that? I told her I just knew how to do it, no one had taught me. BUT she was a wonderful cook and as far as I knew at the time she could cook anything and helping her in the kitchen are really the fondest childhood memories I have...so somehow I knew I has accomplished something and it spurred me on to learn more~I had caught her attention~maybe if I cooked more I could get more attention. And then I learned how to make potato pancakes! My Grandmothers FAMOUS potato pancakes. I learned at a time when potatoes were peeled by hand and then shredded by hand, when women stood around the kitchen and made chicken soup and talked about how THEIR mothers made chicken soup. I must have learned my lessons well because it became my job to make the holiday pancakes, an honor to this day that holds a very special place in my heart. In the years after my Grandmothers death I made my Grandfather his holiday pancakes and when my father comes to visit me now I make him pancakes. I am also responsible for making them for my congregation during the holiday season~it is my greatest joy in cooking!Food memories are so amazing~if you want to go back to your childhood, or a special date or a favorite holiday chances are you can get there with a recipe. The act of gathering the ingrediants and then the first smells wafting through the air, the anticipation as it cooks...can bring me joy all day long. Sometimes enjoyed with family or friends, sometimes enjoyed alone...savored in my mouth and in my head as an old memory plays itself out. My love for cooking started with an onion, which is now a treasured memory I can play in my head anytime I smell one.We never know the side little comment that will change or shape someones life~and until I started to soul search I didn't know that was mine.This is bringing me to a place of understanding what has shaped me into who I am today~so today I am making chicken soup, it always makes me think of all the women in my family that came before me~Wonderful, talented,funny, independant~take no bullshit women. And I love them all very much!