My Grams will frequently lament on those days she has to run errands how she hates to go home to a house that doesn’t smell nice. By this she means, no good food smells. I have to agree. In the dark days of winter, a house does seem warmer when the aroma of a meal on the stove is tantalizing you. It isn’t that often that her home doesn’t yank at your appetite. I have merely stepped on her porch and caught a whiff of something that made my stomach growl.
Such as the other day when I was dropping off a gallon of milk for her after my mystery shop at a fast food restaurant.
“What were you cooking? It smells terrific!” Never mind I just had a value meal and a pop refill. I would probably explode if I ate another bite. If she put a bowl of whatever I was getting a noseful of, I would wolf it down. I might even ask for seconds.
“Oh, just some goulash” she said with a smile.
It is no wonder it smelled like heaven to me. My mom made goulash too. Just like Grams’ goulash. Well, almost. Mom didn’t can her own tomatoes. It is a Midwestern goulash, merely hamburger, tomatoes, onions, macaroni, and assorted spices. I love it!
It made me think about food and home. How the smell of tomatoes and paprika can turn me into a ravenous ten year old. We had dinner early at my house, so it wouldn’t be long after I got off the school bus that I was able to fill my belly. Just a short time of suffering through those delicious yet antagonizing smells. Mom’s spaghetti…..sigh.
I think of the phone calls and emails I have sent to my mother since I have moved into adulthood. I had to know just how she made something because I craved it so badly. She has always been patient, even down to how to cut the cabbage or do whatever, just right. My sister and I have rhapsodized about her stuffed peppers over the phone. I suspect my mom knows my pain. Her mother, Grams, is a hell of a cook. Her apple pie is the stuff legends are made of.
Sometimes it blows my mind to think that I am the one responsible for these memories for my boys. My sons, who shun home cooked meals for now, and food in general (boy, she sure could make a peanut butter sandwich!). My husband, who gets a bit giddy when he asks what is on the menu for the week.
I get in ruts. I lose my inspiration. I love to cook, but it can become drudgery too easily. Too many dinners with picky eaters, eating alone, packing my husband’s share into Tupperware since he works evenings. I haven’t used my pressure cooker in ages, a sure sign of melancholy during these winter months when nothing beats chicken noodle soup made in the pressure cooker.
Today I finally baked chocolate chip cookies. I had been on a bit of a baking strike after the Christmas marathon. My husband walked in the door as the first pan came out of the oven. Soon my middle child ventured from the playroom.
“Tater! Come quick! COOKIES!!!!!” Tater thunders down the stairs like demons are after him.
My guys munched on cookies, making happy noises while they chewed.
“Nothing beats chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven” declares my husband. “With a cold glass of milk!”
“These are the best cookies ever!” Linus chimes in.
“I love cookies” sighs Tater, grabbing another. The baby grabbed for hubby’s cookie, a smear of chocolate on his chin indicating he already had sampled one.
It made me feel good. For such a dreary winter day, it sure seemed like sunshine was pouring into my kitchen. The house did seem warmer, and I don’t think it was just the oven.
Nic this was a wonderful read. Brought many memories back to me of cooking for my family over these last 26 years. I do get tired of it sometimes and with the kids gone, some days it doesn’t seem worth it, but nothing smells better than a cold oven sour cream pound cake baking. That will get you going. My Grandma’s recipes and it has a slightly chewy crust on it, heaven! I read this to my honey and he agreed with you too. He’s home from the desert, safe and sound.
I am so glad he made it home safe! And hey, if you want to share that pound cake recipe, I wouldn’t complain…..
Can I come live at your house? I am at best, a marginal cook. Is there really a special way to cut cabbage?
If you are making cabbage rolls/pigs in a blanket/glumpkes, then yes, there is a special way to cut the cabbage. I hadn’t really thought about it either, but glad she told me before I mangled it!
I didn’t start out a great cook, but I do love to eat. It was a great motivator!
I miss my Mom’s cooking soooo much. She passed away almost 8 yrs ago this summer and I miss her homemade chicken salad she use to make me all the time. She was an amazing cook. I have such great memories of always having a home cooked meal for dinner. I guess that is where I get it from. I love cooking for my girls and baking and giving them those memories that I had with my Mom.
That is wonderful! Crowding around a table at a restaurant just isn’t the same, is it? I am sure your mother would be pleased with her legacy. Goodness, I am feeling all Marie Barone right now…
Gotta love home cooking! I agree that the cold climate just screams for those hot aromas of home cooking goodness.
Speaking of older people….
Don’t you just hate how they horde recipes like their gold? Lol….
Candid, I know you are a fellow Michigander, so you definitely know what I am talking about!
I can understand now, as I get better at cooking, why Grams can’t give me her apple pie recipe. But still, this is something that needs to be preserved! Write it down as you do it, please! Let me film you making it! Give me something to work with!
There is just something about comfort foods…mmmmmmm. Even though I make some of the stuff myself, there is nothing like my mom’s food.
Now, I’m wondering what it is my kids will be wanting me to cook when they visit years from now.
There are dishes we had growing up that even though I have my mother’s, grandmother’s and grandma’s recipies for they still don’t taste the same. It must have been the love in them that made em so good!