You’re in my kitchen right now cooking dinner for Dad and G and John and me (which, I guess means you are also indirectly cooking M’s dinner). You flew out for just a few days and, in this little window, you have fed me in myriad ways. My laundry has been magically folded, my dishes done, my fridge and belly filled and I have felt myself relax for the first time in weeks (ok, maybe for the first time since you were last visiting). You are a phenomenal nana to baby M, kissing her and playing with her and tucking her into bed. Nothing makes me feel more sated then watching my mom and dad with my baby.
We’ve decided to explore a little bit more of the life side of our lives as they’re told in recipes and this is the post that kicks it off. How perfect that what you’re cooking is one of your favorite recipes of your mom’s right now (in this way, Grandy is feeding M, too, and that is just kind of mind-blowing and awesome). I’ll let you share the recipe some other day, but I do want to say that I–like you–have fond memories of eating this chicken dish while growing up. I’m excited to eat it in my house in California, feeling grateful for the continuity of and across kitchens and generations.
As you did last time, you are leaving us with a bounty of chocolate chip cookies (last time they were mookies, this time chocolate chunk…which you made without a recipe which totally impressed me). Every time I eat one, I will think of you and I will feel strong and supported and loved. This is the best kind of food.
Thank you for crossing the country for just a few days. The impact will reverberate in my belly and my heart for weeks to come.