Why has food ALWAYS been such a huge part of my life? Well, I’m part Italian. That’s a start. Every holiday, birthday or celebration of any kind throughout my life has centered around it. Food means family. Food means love. Food means celebrating life and all the happiness it can bring. Food creates memories through tastes, smells and textures. Creating that love, warmth and happiness in the kitchen has been something that linked me to my parents, brothers and sisters during these years of separation that comes from becoming an adult and having my own family. Remembering how happy I could be as a child sitting in the kitchen watching my mother whip up a batch of blueberry pancakes in the shapes of snowmen or my initials, makes me want to create those memories for my kids.
My husband doesn’t share this love of food that I have and it’s been a reoccurring (sometimes stressful) topic of conversation for us. Food is a necessity for him while it remains a pleasure for me. It’s fine, we share enough similar interests and beliefs to carry us through and keep things fresh. I’m the one that does the majority of the cooking and makes the nutritional choices in the house. Miles has a pretty extensive list of foods he really likes and it pleases me immensely. As a mother who’s main focus is on positive eating habits and a well rounded diet I thank my lucky stars everyday that he has been so agreeable to trying new flavors. We did go through our very rough patch with getting him to eat his dinner without having an all out war, but it was short lived and more our issue than his. Once we were able to get over our “clean your plate” hangups, everything seemed to fall into place.
I’m not a food nazi, at least I don’t feel like I am. I just try to keep the majority of what we eat as a family in the whole food zone and bring the treats out for special occasions. I’m not going to lie to make myself look or feel better, we do from time to time eat some pretty yummy junk food. It’s just few and far between. A five dollar pizza deal here, a diner meal there (complete with french fries and a free cookie at the register). On a daily basis though, I cook, bake, can or freeze what we eat and it takes me back to those days in the kitchen with my parents. Dad, stirring a gigantic pot of tomato sauce with sausages and meatballs and my mom pouring homemade pear butter into jars in the fall. Sigh…
And so I cook and I eat and I love. Not always in that order.
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