Dedication~
"Yes
Ma I was looking when you were cooking." -Beth
As
children, we never sat down to a holiday table with no less than 10 people. The
kitchen was full of smells that were mouthwatering and the lively conversations
were always entertaining and educating. The smell of her spaghetti
sauce permeated every corner of the kitchen and with it brought a sense of
calmness and family togetherness.
Years
later, as an adult, I sat in an empty kitchen. Gone were the family of
aunts, uncles, and cousins and the family stories. I was sorting through a
lifetime of kitchen tools and scraps of recipes and occasional pictures of
family gatherings with side notes of who was who.
My
beloved Ma had passed and I was desperately trying to hold onto memories so I
didn't forget the lessons she taught. I opened a drawer and found her
"Betty Crocker" 1940's original edition cookbook and her
beloved recipe box that held her future ideas to be developed. Oh how I wished
I had cooked with her and listened to the stories that she had lived and
learned from. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her large stainless steel stock
pot sitting on the back burner of the stove. It was if it was waiting for her
to return. So I would keep it as a reminder of her and our family dinners and I
took the pot and placed it in my car. Then, I carefully fingered the
well-worn book and wrapped it in one of her hand embroidered dish towels and
took it home and placed it with her recipe box in the bottom of my dresser
drawer til I decided what to do.
I can no longer cook with her. However, I can cook in "her" Italian kitchen.
I was inspired to write this after going to an Adriana Trigiani book talk.
