I love Mom

So I made lunch today.

Let me explain about two things.

One, I have been cooking since about age 10 when my Mom said I could have all the caramel custard I wanted if I made it for myself.

I think she was being sarcastic, but I was way too earnest a child to understand sarcasm, especially from a French woman. My reaction instead was "ok great!". I then stole her Athens Georgia Junior League cookbook (circa 1967) and cooked stuff out of that, mostly weirdly exotic Southern desserts that involved brandy, oranges, and coconut. And I churned out so many spongecake loafs that one day the cookbook disappeared in mysterious circumstances.

And two, we have always sat down to family lunch on Sunday since forever. I have alternatively seen this as both a major drag and as a vital necessity to my life.

In my teenage years it included the four of us (Mom, Dad, Evil Twin, Me) and also Grandpa and Sally-Nana (my beloved step-grandmother) all sitting down to a homecooked meal for about three hours.

These days it's the five of us, with an occasional cameo.

And Mom still cooks the dinner.

So that makes deciding what to give her for Mother's Day pretty obvious.

Yep, I cooked. Nothing with oranges or coconut, I swear.

I made little gougeres, and also a feta cheese dip to start. We always start with a few munchies and an aperatif.

Then we had chicken cooked with basil, garlic, artichokes, and tomatoes. And a batch of panisse. Served with a salad of arugula tossed with lemon juice and a little sea salt.

For dessert it was anything with chocolate, so I whipped up a batch of Maureen's Lifesaving Brownies and served it with French vanilla ice cream.

Of course despite the fact that I am trying to be very good about my diet and exercising, I of course stuffed my face. Oh well. Whatever it takes to show my Mom I love her!


tammy said…
These are the kind of sacrifices we have to make on Mother's Day. I know she appreciated it.

Popular posts from this blog

Sometimes the jam jells. Sometimes it don't.

Aggressive coffee.

Eastah Scorchah