I have had a project sitting at the back of my mind for a while now. You know the kind: an idea that occurs to you in the middle of the night (my best ideas tend to come during the nocturnal nursing session I don’t think Miss Cecily is ever going to give up!), and you have to commit it to memory over and over again so it doesn’t escape you in the morning. I have heard of others who keep a notepad on their nightstand for this purpose. I really should get on that…
Matt and I have been together for many moons. Eleven years, to be exact. And those eleven trips around the sun have certainly made for an amazing ride: five years dating, six years married. Two houses. Three gorgeous children. One wily beagle with hideous breath. 😉
The thing that occured to me during my nocturnal epiphany, though, didn’t have to do with the statistics of our relationship. It was the fact that in nearly every single memory I have of our journey together, no matter what event I am considering, each of the legs of my sentimental journey always seem to share a common thread.
This might sound odd to so many. But being raised in a family that loves and bonds through food, and then marrying a man who came from a clan who also has an immense love for food, it appears that somehow over the years my heart came to be hard-wired through my stomach. As human beings, we remember things through our senses. And for me, it seems the sense that wins out every time, in just about every memory, is taste.
In our chronicle, recipes are like roadmaps.
Our early dating was Mama Reita’s meatloaf, which Matt loved so much, my mom would have to two each time she prepared it: one for Matt, and one for the rest of us.
Our first celebration after marrying was the chocolate birthday cake I slaved over for Matt, that Maggie the Wonder Beagle subsequently ate half of when I wasn’t looking. (She was thankfully fine in spite of the inordinate amount of chocolate she managed to eat that day. And in case you’re wondering, we did brave it and eat the other half ourselves. 😉
My first effort to woo him with my home cooking prowess (or lack thereof at that point!) was the botched batch of chicken and “dumplings” I attempted that turned out more like chicken and gelatinous goo.
Our pregnancy with Jack was homemade spicy pimiento cheese (and, yes, I [we] gained a LOT of weight!).
And so on and so forth.
Starting now, I am going to periodically document little stories of our relationship, and the recipes that go along with them.
Having grown up in a home brimming with sewing notions and paintbrushes, Amy has a deep love for all things creative. On any given day, you’ll find her knee-deep in her latest creative endeavor, with projects ranging from sewing and crafts to home decor and kid-friendly ideas. Amy believes that everyone, regardless of skill level or experience, possesses the ability to create something beautiful, and Positively Splendid was born of her passion for helping others harness their innate creative potential.