The Kitchen: For More Than Just Making Food

When I was a little girl, my best friend lived across the street from me. We played together almost every day. We were each as comfortable in each other’s homes as we were our own. So many of my childhood memories involve spending time with her and her family. Playing baseball in the yard in springtime, picking raspberries in summer, jumping off swings into leaf piles in autumn together, building igloos in winter with her and her dad.

I also distinctly remember an autumn afternoon that she called me to ask me to run across the street to help her and her mom in the kitchen. They were making applesauce. A concept so totally foreign to me, I had to accept her invitation just to see what it was all about. I stood in her kitchen watching her mom simmer apples on her stove, then waiting as they cooled. I watched her fill jar after jar. My best friend wouldn’t stop telling me that her mom’s applesauce was the best in the world.

I thought it was weird. I asked, “why don’t you just buy jars of it at the store?”

After a happy accident last week that resulted in me needing to use up some apples, I decided to make some for the first time. I’ve made a dozen batches of it since because as it turns out my daughter thinks I make “the yummiest applesauce in the world”. Isn’t it wonderful how encouraging kids can be? It’s now a daily request in her school lunches. Between loaves of bread and homemade applesauce, I feel a bit like the mama in one of our favorite books, The Seven Silly Eaters.

When I was younger and my mom took out a cookbook to make a true homemade meal, my brother and I would fake fainting on the floor, make gagging sounds and say “Oh no! Not another recipe!” I appreciate my mom and her delicious, healthy cooking more now.

When I first left home and was responsible for cooking, I was totally lost. I had no idea how to cook or bake or that being in the kitchen could be enjoyable. My mother claims I never wanted to help in the kitchen and I believe her. I was too busy playing game after game of H-O-R-S-E in the driveway. My husband had to teach me how to make a real from scratch with real ingredients meal for the first time. As time went on, I found I really enjoyed making a meals and having the people I love around me enjoy them. I had failures and successes, and learned a  lot. I am still learning.

Having my kids now has made me appreciate that much more my time in the kitchen. They love to bake with me and to help with meals. They want to crack the eggs and knead the dough. They want to lick the bowl and watch the cookies and pizzas in the oven. They are so much a part of the process that I am learning how much fun being in the kitchen with them can be. They are teaching me that being in the kitchen is about more than just making food. It’s about making memories, having fun, and learning about what we put into our bodies everyday. They make me love the big beautiful mess that creating in the kitchen with them makes.

I look forward to pizza night. I used to get so nervous. Would my dough turn out okay? Would the pizzas be yummy? Now I don’t worry. I enjoy every moment of kneading dough, adding toppings, and hearing my kids tell their friends that their mama makes the best pizza ever.

There isn’t much more this mama needs for a smile.