returning to the kitchen

Making pizza on Friday has become a tradition in our home. We love pizza and have it every week. Making it is fun and lately Peter has been my little pizza making buddy. He stands on a chair and picks at the dough with his tiny pointer finger and thumb pinched together and eats little bits. He also pushes on the rolling pin and helps me roll it out. As I roll out the dough I often find myself thinking about my mom.

In my pizza crust I use half white flour and half whole wheat flour (We love the taste and texture. Plus it is healthier for us.) and you can see the flecks of wheat in the dough as it is rolled out. It looks like freckles. My mother has freckled arms. So every time I see those freckles in the dough I think of her and how if it wasn't for her I wouldn't know the first thing about how to make pizza crust from scratch. I wouldn't be able to heat my home on a chilly afternoon by baking the recipes she has passed down to me or delight visitors with yummy tasty treats. I am so grateful that she taught me how to prepare wholesome food for my family. I was making lasagna, sauce and all, by myself from the age of 12. Yes I had an interest but she also took the time and made the effort to teach.

To this very day I am a Thanksgiving snob. At my house everything but the jellied cranberry sauce was made from scratch and it was always so wonderful! In my naivete I thought all Thanksgivings were like that. In college I found out otherwise when I had Thanksgiving dinner with a roommate and her family. We had boxed stuffing, boxed pies, rolls from a can and I could taste the difference. Oh how I missed my family that year and how we used to work together to prepare our feast! Food just tastes better after you have slaved over it all day long, or at least it should!

Yes, there were hot dog days and fish sticks too but I can honestly say those were few (at least in my memory).We are wholesome and strong individuals in my family and it is because my mom took the time to feed us wholesome foods around the dinner table. I feel that eating whole foods makes whole families, I may have stolen that idea from the book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. but I believe it. Thank you Mom and I am so grateful for your strong freckled arms that helped me become a cook who knows that the heart of the home is in the kitchen and that taking the time is important.

I can only hope that when Peter grows up he will show his children how to make a pizza from scratch and he will remember me as he rolls out the dough. Even though I didn't inherit my mother's freckled arms.