Becky Homecky

My mom is an awesome cook.  Growing up, she cooked all the time.  She made breakfast each morning and dinner every night.  OK, not every night.  We ate out sometimes too.  But the big meal was always Sunday dinner.  We would always have a roast or turkey or ham and all the fixings.  The house would smell amazing, and those smells will forever pull me back to that warm comfort of childhood.

Now my mom and I are living together again, but this time I'm a mom too.  She doesn't cook much in the new house.  I mean, I was raised with a mom that cooked, so I am now a mom that cooks.  That's kind of weird to say, because I never asked my mom to teach me to cook.  I was more than happy to just let her do it and reap all the benefits.  In fact, I didn't start cooking until I was well into my 20s.  (We're talking closer to 30 than 20, here.)

And do you know what made me learn to cook?  I wish I could say it was the primal instinct of a mother-to-be, but no.  It was the farmer's market.  And not my burning desire to eat fresh or local or even my curiosity about ne, exotic vegetables.  I had a craving for zucchini bread.  Simple.  No biggie.  Just a craving.  I thought, "That can't be that hard.  I'll just pop down to the farmer's market over lunch and pick up a couple of zucchinis."

So, I grabbed my friend, and we went to the market.  I walked up to the first stall with zucchinis and said,  "I'll take two!"  (Those of you familiar with the ways of the the market are likely snickering at my naivete right now.)  They don't really sell things one at a time there.  And, before I knew what was happening, I had two bags overflowing with zucchinis.  Literally.  At least 2 dozen.

My eyes round, I looked at my friend and said, "Do you have any zucchini recipes?"  We both laughed.  At least I had a project for the weekend.

So, I went home and started googling zucchini recipes.  I sent out an email to all my friends inviting them to a zucchini dinner party and started cooking.  I made 2 loaves of zucchini bread, a zucchini chocolate cake and West African Stew.  And by the time I was finished chopping, grating and cooking all of that zucchini – I was obsessed with cooking.  (And by the time eveyone was done eating, they were obsessed with West African Stew and Zucchini Chocolate Cake)

The thing is, though, I never got back around to learning the basics.  I've never baked a turkey.  I rarely make roast.  And ham is more of an addition to soups or stews.  (I make lots of exotic stews and curries.)  I love vegetarian casseroles and meatless meatballs.  I love things that require a lot of chopping and make the kitchen smell of summer gardens and crackle with hot olive oil.

So, now I wonder, what smells will my children remember?  What things will they taste and say, "This is really good, but my mom made it sooooo much better."  What dishes will they crave when they've moved out, and I'll offer them the recipe, but they'll refuse it and say, "I'll just come home so you can make it for me."

Oh, and Mom, you make the best pie.  I can't wait for Thanksgiving.  I can never make pies as yummy as yours.