Who taught you to love food? That answer is not so simple for me because that person is someone I barely remember. In fact, when she did cook for me, I preferred buttered noodles over her spaghetti with “red sauce.” Now I can’t imagine anything I would rather eat in this world than her zugu . My love of food came from my parents and aunts and uncles who have kept the memory of my grandma’s cooking alive and painstakingly tried to make her dishes come as close to her cooking as they possibly could. Which I can’t imagine was easy. It wasn’t for a lack of trying or that they didn’t get the recipes from my grandma before she passed away, but that was the thing with her. She didn’t really have recipes and didn’t really have measurements. She did everything by look and feel – the hallmark of every good cook. From that persistence of relatives trying to match her beloved recipes, I learned a respect for not only the wonderful woman that she was but the magic of good food. Her recipes were a...
Boy mom. Michigander. Food obsessed.