I love to cook. I am by far not the best cook in the world. Chef, cook, supplier of protein to the family, but they love what I make and I love to make it for them.
The other day something inside of me said, “Hey!, when was the last time you made something good”? Fast food started becoming my not so good friend. I mean truly there is no one at home now that “depends” on my dinners any longer.
My children are adults, raising their own children and well my youngest loves to pick stuff up whenever he gets hungry, but when I start cooking, he comes out of his room to let me know he can’t wait for the pasta dish I was cooking to be done.
My youngest daughter and grandson, stopped by during the Minestrone soup cooking to let me know, yes that is going to be for lunch and dinner. My other two daughters and sons-in-law love when I cook. My dad loves when I cook, anything. My own cheerleaders.
We all have our special dishes, whether its mac and cheese, soups, roasted chicken, sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, cereal, and toast, warm chocolate chip cookies, what matters is the simple peace of just putting a meal together for you and your family… or you… or you and your only one…you get the idea.
Cooking for my family is my therapy. For myself and for them. They know something good to eat is coming their way (and I always make extra) and I have this feeling of contentment.
As I sat down and had my bowl of Minestrone with crunchy bread and parmesan sprinkled on top, my family made their way to the kitchen and suddenly my meal is complete.
My son told me that he feels the way Anton Ego from Ratatouille the Pixar movie. Anton was the critic at the restaurant where little Remy was the amazing chef. There is a scene where he was taken back to when his mother made Ratatouille for him as a little boy and when he eats it in the restaurant the memories flood him.
Thank you baby for making Mama’s day. My son has the same warm and fuzzy, loved feeling just eating a simple meal made with love. Go ahead… make something with love.