Inspiration is defined as “the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.” So what is my inspiration? Who am I and why did I have this crazy idea to start this blog? Well, like me, the answer is convoluted and complex. Food has always been my life. I was literally immersed in the world of food from birth. My father spent his whole professional career in the kitchen, from feeding hundreds of people at a prominent insurance company, catering weddings, and all sorts of parties, to serving delicious seafood, fried chicken, and chopped bbq to his community. He was always cooking and feeding people. I saw the pride it gave him and the joy that he brought to people.
My mom was no slouch in the kitchen either. She and my dad married young, and Daddy taught her well. She could make a meal out of anything, and it always tasted great. Her mom, my Grandma Evans, was known for her cooking as well. She’s been gone for 20 years and we still talk about the excellent food that she made, always from scratch. Her biscuits were famous, as was her chicken ‘n dumplings and chocolate cake.
Great cooks are found throughout my entire family, on both sides. My mom’s twin sister also married a great cook. All of my aunts, uncles, and cousins can “burn in the kitchen.” Maybe it’s the Southern roots. Maybe it’s the fact that food was everywhere on every occasion. We always ate well and appreciated every bite.
Now, back to my original thought: what is my inspiration? Obviously my family is a huge part of it. But through my own journey, I’ve discovered that cooking is a source of stress relief for me. It’s relaxing. It allows me to be creative. I crave flavors and textures and go into the kitchen and turn it into a meal. I taught my husband to cook. I’m teaching my sons to cook. Yes, it’s a skill, but it’s love and its sustenance. Feeding my family and friends is what I thrive on.
In recent years, I’ve become increasingly interested in the farm-to-table movement. I love knowing where my food comes from, who nurtured it and cultivated it. I love buying meat, or veggies or wine, and knowing that the money I pay for it goes right in the pockets of my neighbors and my community. I am, by no means, a professional chef or trained gourmand. I’m just a home chef foodie with a passion for all things in the kitchen and these are the things that I want to share with you through this blog.
By now, you are probably wondering what this is all going to look like and what makes this different from other foodie pages. I will not only be sharing recipes with you but the stories behind them. You will come to know the friends and family who inspire me to cook. I will dive deeper into my thoughts and feelings about foods and beverages. I will share with you some of my reviews of cookbooks and kitchen gadgets and tools. I will “take” you to my favorite farms, markets, and restaurants and introduce you to the hearts and souls behind them.
To kick this off, let me share a few recipes with you and a little about them. Since this is a “launch,” we must have party foods, right? I’ve chosen 2 appetizer recipes that I serve at get-togethers: Rumaki and Spanikopita. Disclaimer: one is a Japanese-inspired dish and the other is Greek-inspired. While some may not view these recipes as authentic, that’s okay. This is how I make them and how my friends and family enjoy them. You will hear me say time and time again, a recipe is a guide; you have to make the dish your own.
Besides these 2 recipes being party foods, there is a very specific reason why I chose them: my Mommy (aka Kat, Kitty KarryAll, MawMaw, Little Mommy, Auntie Pasta, and many more crazy names). She loved these 2 dishes. Let’s talk about Rumaki first.
During my time in college (Shout out to Bloomsburg University of PA), I belonged to the Program Board. This was basically a student-run activities group. We planned movies, dances, trips, and all kinds of entertaining things for college kids to do. Our group advisor was a guy named Jimmy. He was a lot of fun and very social. We always had gatherings and outings for our leadership team. He and his wife had our group to their house for dinner one night and they served Rumaki. They were these yummy water chestnuts, wrapped in bacon with flavors of soy, ginger, and brown sugar. I fell in love with them. I wanted to recreate them myself while home on a break from school, so I found a recipe. Much to my surprise, the original recipe included chicken livers. Since I grew up eating chicken liver, I was not deterred by this ingredient at all. I whipped up a batch and my mom was hooked. From that point on, she and my Aunt Jo (Mommy’s identical twin sister) would beg me to make them often, which I hated doing because I hate touching liver. Those twins used to argue about who would get more pieces when I made them. My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer in March 2014. I spent the rest of that year and all of 2015 cooking whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. On Thanksgiving 2014, just she and my stepdad were joining my husband, our boys, and me for dinner. I made a HUGE batch of Rumaki. Mommy pulled in the driveway just as they were coming out of the oven. She ate almost the whole tray herself, leaving a little pile of toothpicks on her plate. Little did I know, that was the last “good” Thanksgiving we would have with her. She passed away 13 months later.
Spanikopita is a delicious mixture of spinach, feta cheese, and dill between layers of buttery filo dough. My mouth waters just thinking about it. I first came to know about this recipe as a child. I think my dad made some for one of his many catering gigs. As usual, we got to eat whatever he was cooking, and man, was it good! Like many of Daddy’s recipes, Mommy took it and made it her own. She would whip up Spanikopita on a random weekend when she was craving it or make it for an extended family dinner. Since filo dough is not the most fun to work with, whenever she made it, it was a labor of love. Mommy also had a huge affinity for feta cheese. That’s probably why it is a staple in my house now and why I always order or make Greek salads with extra feta. My youngest son also loves feta, which he still refers to as “stinky cheese.”
Thanks for stopping by, I appreciate it.
