Like Home

I grew up thinking my mom was the best cook in the world.  I remember when I was much, much younger telling her she should run a restaurant because I thought she could make anything, and make it well.  She was one of the only people I knew that made pie...with a homemade crust - gasp!

I still think there's not much better than a home-cooked meal from my mom.  

Now that I'm in charge of making sure the little mouths in our home are fed and happy, I realize why my mom's food was soo good.  

She enjoyed making sure her family was taken care of, and her cooking reflected that.  

(Also, she grew up in the south and lots of her recipes reflect that.  Yes, I will put butter in that!!)

I'm not saying she felt like this all the time, or every trip planned to the grocery store, moments before dinner was ready, 

and she's asking us to set the table , especially when she got home from work, and we were all whiny and staaaarving.  

 (Probably more my siblings than me.  I would never do that.  It definitely doesn't sound like me.)

 As I find myself following in her shoes, I'm finding so much value in trying to find foods that my family really enjoys.

One of which just happens to be trying to cook my way through her pie recipes.  

I haven't made it very far.  

Chocolate Meringue?  You are my nemesis.

But I can do apple.

Not the prettiest, but omg, this is how much we had left after one night.

(And shared one piece with our neighbor.)

It may have taken me three times as long to make since I had a special helper in the kitchen, and we may have started over on the crust twice because said helper dumped all of my ice water into the flour when I wasn't looking, but surely Ham knows I just need extra practice. 

And the best part?

Sprinkling sugar and cinnamon on the left-over rolled out pie crust, throwing it in the oven just for a bit like my mom used to do 

and giving it to Henry and Nelle for their own special treat.

I couldn't help but sneak in a taste.

It tasted just like I remembered.

Like home.