Why "Life Starts in the Kitchen"?

One of the hardest steps in starting this blog: What in the world do I name it??

Every single family event that I can remember, celebration, gathering, whatnot...more often than not focuses itself in the kitchen, and on the food. I can remember, and cherish the memories, of going to my Grandma's house on Christmas Eve, and the life that surrounded her kitchen, her dining room tables (yes, PLURAL), and the traditions that surrounded it. There were always snack stuffs around the BIG dining table (the one that sat 16), and then in the kitchen you could find my aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, friends...nearly everyone who wasn't watching football.

Grandma's kitchen, Christmas Eve

Once dinner was ready, Grandpa would carve the turkey with the electric knife, turning that turkey into ground turkey, and then the buffet line would begin. It was typically a potluck style, since my mom is one of six kids, and in my generation, there are 17 of us, 8 of whom are married now, and now, there are 9 in the next generation, my son included. So, it's a BIG family, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love it.

We'd all sit down in our appropriate seats, and often, there was a kids' table, or two, plus an extended dining table. There was one year that about 33 people came for Christmas Eve dinner, and the tables made a reversed "L." It was one for the recordbooks.

After dinner, a team of dish-takers and dish-washers would begin their duties, some carrying, some washing, some drying. In addition, the next round of food would be making its way to the limelight. Someone would start brewing the coffee, the pies would come out, and when I was a child, someone was in charge of taking pie orders: apple, berry, or mince. And my Grandma's pies were AMAZING. One thing I do take pride in is in making my own homemade pie crust from SCRATCH. My mother taught me, her mother taught her.

This past October, my Grandma passed away at the age of 89, so we had our first Thanksgiving and Christmas without her. When it came time to do dishes, I broke down into tears. I was with my husband's family, and it was just me doing dishes. No dish-takers, no dish-washers, no pie-order-taking children. I missed the life in the kitchen, even though it was a different kitchen.

I've always been drawn towards the recipes of family members, especially those written in their own hand. It's like there's a part of me with them, in the kitchen. I have the exact same nut grinder as my Great Grandmother, and use it each time I make persimmon nut bread or persimmon cookies, even though it's more labor intensive. I have my Nana's cookie recipes in her own hand. It's like having them nearby, linked by something that really hasn't changed that much - cooking in the kitchen.

With that, I strongly believe Life Starts in the Kitchen. Every family event, family gathering, every day - the kitchen brings life together, and creates such wonderful memories. Oh, and some darn awesome food, too.