A couple of weeks ago, I made dessert to take to my other half's parents' house for Sunday dinner. I love to bake, so really, this was something I enjoyed doing. Generally, if cooking of any variety is involved, I look forward to getting started. While we were eating dessert, I was asked if baking was something I learned from my mother. I guess it would only seem natural that it was something I picked up while growing up because my mother baked. But, this couldn't be farther from the case. In fact, I don't think there was ever a time my mother ever a baked a thing. Nothing for those school bake sales, nothing to bring to home we visited for dinner or some other occasion. This question then led me to think what activities or things did I learn from my mother.
Growing up there were few things around the house that my mother for which my mother took responsibility. When shopping of any variety was involved, my mother was the one who took the reins. Other than that, though, I don't recall her being involved. Every so often she would drive my brother or I to our piano lessons or some other weekend commitment. For meals, my mother would periodically make breakfast or dinner. And nevermind the cleaning . . . she took no part in that at all. There would be some nights where we would spend an hour or so playing Chinese Checkers or cards together and as I got older we would throw Scrabble into the mix for our interactions. But there were no evenings of helping my mother make dinner or dessert. There were few moments where I learned how to do things specifically from my mother.
Now, there were plenty of incredibly fun shopping sprees, in addition to phenomenal meals out just my mother and I. There was also travel that were just my mother and I. But spending time together like that and sharing experiences, to me, is different than spending time together for me to learn an intangible skill from my mother. Do I feel like I missed out on something? Well, sometimes I do. I would see her cook sometimes, when she was expecting company, but she did not take the time to show me what she was doing or even ask for me to come have a look. The times when I would want to hang out and watch, she would just shoo me away to continue with setting the table for our guests or tidy up the house.
With my mother no longer here and my father not getting any younger, I came to realize that I don't know all those family recipes for making homemade dumplings or other dishes that we had while I was growing up. As an adult, and moreso recently, I've had to figure these things out for myself. Clearly I can't ask my mother. And my father is extremely vague about what goes into the dishes that he makes or used to make. So, between Chinese cookbooks and trial and error, I've come to figure out how to recreate dishes I had while growing up.
When I feel as though I've struck gold with a recipe (with my additional twists or add-ons), I make sure to write it all down on a recipe card and file it away in my recipe book. If I should be so fortunate to have children, I want to be able to pass down the family recipes and cooking secrets to my children. To me it just seems like something that can bind the generations together as time passes. I look forward to the day when my child wants to hang out in the kitchen while I cook and participate in the act of cooking. I look forward to the day when I will be able to start passing on my love for cooking to my children, in addition to all the other things I learned from my mother. It saddens me only a little bit because in some cases, I'll not be able to say these are things I learned from your grandmother. The happiness, though, is that I've found something where I am able to forge my own path for my children.
Growing up there were few things around the house that my mother for which my mother took responsibility. When shopping of any variety was involved, my mother was the one who took the reins. Other than that, though, I don't recall her being involved. Every so often she would drive my brother or I to our piano lessons or some other weekend commitment. For meals, my mother would periodically make breakfast or dinner. And nevermind the cleaning . . . she took no part in that at all. There would be some nights where we would spend an hour or so playing Chinese Checkers or cards together and as I got older we would throw Scrabble into the mix for our interactions. But there were no evenings of helping my mother make dinner or dessert. There were few moments where I learned how to do things specifically from my mother.
Now, there were plenty of incredibly fun shopping sprees, in addition to phenomenal meals out just my mother and I. There was also travel that were just my mother and I. But spending time together like that and sharing experiences, to me, is different than spending time together for me to learn an intangible skill from my mother. Do I feel like I missed out on something? Well, sometimes I do. I would see her cook sometimes, when she was expecting company, but she did not take the time to show me what she was doing or even ask for me to come have a look. The times when I would want to hang out and watch, she would just shoo me away to continue with setting the table for our guests or tidy up the house.
With my mother no longer here and my father not getting any younger, I came to realize that I don't know all those family recipes for making homemade dumplings or other dishes that we had while I was growing up. As an adult, and moreso recently, I've had to figure these things out for myself. Clearly I can't ask my mother. And my father is extremely vague about what goes into the dishes that he makes or used to make. So, between Chinese cookbooks and trial and error, I've come to figure out how to recreate dishes I had while growing up.
When I feel as though I've struck gold with a recipe (with my additional twists or add-ons), I make sure to write it all down on a recipe card and file it away in my recipe book. If I should be so fortunate to have children, I want to be able to pass down the family recipes and cooking secrets to my children. To me it just seems like something that can bind the generations together as time passes. I look forward to the day when my child wants to hang out in the kitchen while I cook and participate in the act of cooking. I look forward to the day when I will be able to start passing on my love for cooking to my children, in addition to all the other things I learned from my mother. It saddens me only a little bit because in some cases, I'll not be able to say these are things I learned from your grandmother. The happiness, though, is that I've found something where I am able to forge my own path for my children.
2 comments:
You know, the only thing I kept as a cherished souvenir from my grandparents was my grandmother's cookbook...
She was a phenomenal cook and built a giant scrapbook of favorite written recipies, taped quotes and other recipes, stories, prayers... I remember loving that "bible" since I was 5 years old.
I was lucky enough to have a mom that has done the same... truly a great tradition to hand down from generation to generation; kudos to you for starting it! :-0)
I have an old cookbook that was my mothers, plus some notes that she had written on recipes.
What I did was copy recipes of the Holday Favorites and put them all in one of those 3x5 photo albums. I said when I die they will have all the favorites in one place. Plus I do not have to agonize each year to find them.
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