Anyone that speaks to me more than a couple of paragraphs essentially knows I love my Mama. I am a Mama’s girl through and through. She and I have always been very good friends. We’ve spent a lot of time together in the kitchen! She has a sweet tooth and is famous for her poundcake, French butter cookies, and peanut brittle. My love of food and cooking took root in the kitchen with Mama.
Reading is Fundamental
I was always a bookish child, curled up in a corner with a book, reading a book in the car, or hiding under the weeping willow tree with a book in my hand. Once when I was in elementary school the principal called mama in for a meeting because I was cutting class — cutting class and sneaking into the library. Mama didn’t think that was such a problem.
A couple of years later just before the summer break, we were in the library choosing books for vacation. I was reading above my age and the librarian wanted me to read something more “age-appropriate.” I vividly remember her telling me to stick to a certain children’s section for my summer reading when what I really wanted to do was go over there to the hardback books. I wasn’t reading titillating teen material; I had started reading the classics. I was beginning to appreciate literature. Mama just let me choose what I wanted to read.
Not Part of the In-Crowd
A bookish child turned into a bookish teenager. I was never part of the popular crowd. Didn’t kiss a boy until I was 16. Of course, that’s all more clear now, but the nut of it was, I wasn’t hanging out in the Dairy Queen parking lot with the other teens on Friday night. I was at home with Mama. My parents divorced when I was in high school, the summer between my junior and senior years. That same summer the private school I attended closed. I was 16. It was tumultuous. Mama and I leaned on each other and it was then that our “grown-up” friendship really started.
Instead of going to another school for my senior year, I started college. I had to get my driver’s license so that I could live at home and drive to college. It just was the thing to do and I did it with Mama right there beside me. She never let on she was worried or that I couldn’t do it. She believed in me if she had any hesitation about her sheltered bookish daughter starting college at 16, she never let on.
A lot has happened in my life since those big steps many years ago. I transferred to UGA and boy howdy, did my world open up. I went to England one summer for a couple of weeks and called her to ask if I could stay the summer. She said yes. I am sure she was scared to death, but if she had any hesitation, she never let on. After a few years of floundering around, I wanted to go to culinary school. She supported my ambition and if she had any hesitation, she never let on.
Later still, I wanted to move to France to learn and study. I was supposed to be there for 3 months and was there for almost three years. If she had any hesitation, she never let on. Moving to New York City to be the kitchen director for Bobby Flay? Leaving that to work for Martha Stewart? Leaving a fantastic job with Martha to travel the world with Epicurious shooting stories about mustard in Dijon or pasta in Italy? If she had any hesitation, she never let on.
Traveling with Mama
We’ve traveled the world together, we’ve eaten freshly baked bagels in Montreal, gnawed on beef bones in Texas, hiked rain forests in Alaska, toured the Tower in London, hunted for truffles in Croatia, hiked mountain trails in Yosemite, and gone fishing pretty much anywhere we can wet a hook. I’ve gotten her lost in winding back alleys in Turkey, taken wrong turns in Paris, and we’ve trooped up many a tower stairwell in Italy. If she had any hesitation, she never let on.
When I returned home to the South was another story. She “let on” how happy she was and I am very glad I returned. Life is good for me here. When you are young you can’t wait to get the hell out of Dodge and I found at least when I got older I couldn’t wait to get the hell back! After 9/11 and being stuck in Manhattan as those towers burned and subsequently losing my job, I wanted to go home to Georgia. After living predominately for the past 3-4 years in New England, my life changed radically once again — and guess what? I moved home to Georgia.
I’ve always devoured books, still do. Words are magic to me. The fact that occasionally I can string together a couple and make a beautiful sentence or a moving phrase or an evocative thought thrills me. I love to cook, and as my life evolves and changes I realize I love writing almost as much. The fact that I can marry these two loves is a wonderful and wondrous thing.
And, that, like most of the wonderful and wondrous things in my life is as a result of the love and support of my wonderful and wondrous Mama. I hope you enjoy this recipe for Mama’s Poundcake.
I love you, Mama. Happy Mother’s Day. I Love YOU the Most!
Bon Appétit Y’all
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