Friday, August 04, 2006
I don't remember cooking as a child, but while sifting through old tins of photos, I have come across many of me in the kitchen.
In them, my mother wears a calico apron, and instructs me on proper mixing of cookie dough. I stand on a chair, my smile as wide as a dinner plate.
Unlike many lovers of food that I know, I do not have a flour covered cookbook from my mother, or notecards written prudently in a flowing cursive from a distant and long gone, but well remembered relative. But I do have memories of special birthday meals of spanikopita, cakes in the shape of rainbows and unicorns, and those photos of my mother and I.
And though these moments remain stirred into my memories, I felt an inner nostagia for a true gastronomic history. For new reasons for celebration. New traditions.
So in the last two years I decided to start from scratch.
This blog is about my love of food, friendship, and joie de vivre.