Childhood Foods

When my father-in-law suffered a stroke he craved all of his childhood foods: fig squares, hot dogs, sauerkraut, fried fish with chips. All of his childhood memories came flooding back as well, traumas he began sharing with us about growing up in South Boston in a huge chaotic Irish family.

There were 4 overripe bananas in the fridge and I decided rather than throw them out, I'd peel them slice them lengthwise and fry them in a skillet with my eggs. This was a Sunday morning breakfast treat that my step father Tony made when my sister and I were 5 and 7. Usually accompanied by Tony's animal-shaped pancakes.

When we were kids we made home made hand churned vanilla ice cream and ate it with apple dumplings. We made hand pressed apple cider too when we visited friends in the country.

I still like to lick the bowl and the beaters when making pancakes or cookies. I love raw dough and batter.

All of my childhood memories came back having a bite of fried banana. The white floor to ceiling tiled kitchen, the overhead globe light, and the wooden table that my mother designed whose legs we banged into continually.

Yesterday I simmered a dozen chicken legs in cholula and chipotle hot sauce and olive oil covered in my crock pot and I went up and took a nap. I woke up to amazing good smells and Lily coming into the bedroom to remind me to get up.

I love to cook and bake. When my friends lived in an old jail turned housing co-op in Seattle they said there was a table in the lobby called the free table. Anyone could put anything on it and it was up for grabs. The day they moved in was 95 degrees. They were exhausted. They walked by the free table and someone had placed two glasses of ice cold beer on it. They were sold. This was the coolest thing.

I'd like a free table in my neighborhood. I'd put out breads and soups and stews because giving is as much fun as making, maybe even more fun.