To say that I have no family where I live is not a completely accurate statement. I am part of a small church plant on Long Island, and while most of my family is on the West coast- I have another family here- my church family. They have become my brothers and sisters, and some of my closest confidants and supporters. They will also probably play a significant role in this blog, as they are the ones I cook for most often, my designated taste-testers. So after our Easter morning service we engaged in usual chatter, sipping coffee and guiltily nibbling yet-another-cookie. During this the realization came about that last year we shared a huge Easter meal, including communion with the largest loaf of bread you've ever seen, and vowed it to be tradition. Yet this year, it had not been organized. The next realization was that I was not the only one without Easter plans, and quickly, the tradition was back on.
Within a few short minutes it was decided who's house we would gather at as well as other details. With a long-awaited warm day upon us, the grill would be cleaned, and that pre-seasoned pork tenderloin in their freezer could be defrosted. The birthday party the day before had yielded a significant amount of leftover cookies and cake which meant dessert was covered. And since I was the one woman in the planning group not pregnant, and I typically need no excuse to cook, I volunteered to cover everything else. This also meant I only half-listened to the rest of the conversation as my mind spun with what sides would be put together in the next few hours.
By the time I reached home, I knew the menu, and exactly where to find the recipes I needed. The sides "-By B" would be a Cranberry Jello Salad, Potato Salad and Deviled Eggs. Yes, that's right, I'm starting a food blog talking about about Jello Salad, Potato Salad and Deviled Eggs. I assure you, my food is typically a bit more elevated than this on the culinary scale, but, this Potato Salad, is not just Potato Salad, and neither are the eggs or the jello. There is history, memories, and love wrapped up in each.
The Potato Salad is a recipe found in a family cook book assembled by my cousins a few years ago. A recipe submitted by my paternal grandmother. If you were to see this recipe, I am sure it would seem like an ordinary potato salad to you, and it is. But when I see it, when I taste it, it floods my mind with backyard bar-b-que's in rare Oregon sunshine, surrounded by family, younger cousins running around, and laughter. I think of my grandparents, my parents, my cousins, aunt, uncles... I remember my family.
The Cranberry Jello Salad is a recipe that was passed to me by my maternal grandmother just a couple years ago, after years of her making it for me. It's full of cranberries, celery, orange, and other tasty ingredients, but in the end, no matter what, jello salad never ranks very high in culinary greatness. But when I make it, when I taste it, I remember how my grandmother used to make it for my Valentine birthday when I was young, creating a heart-shaped mold that was all for me, because it was one of my favorites. It appeared at many holiday tables, but more than that, I think of the last couple years when she and I had opportunity to stand side by side in the kitchen while she taught me "her way" to make the salad, slightly varied, but slightly better, than the recipe. The taste of this salad is wrapped up with moments we shared, working together, moments too few and far between now.
The Deviled Eggs were not a passed down recipe (and really, do you need a recipe for deviled eggs?), but there was a holiday gathering with the family years ago when I was put in charge of them, surely because it was a simple dish and I was still a young kid just learning the kitchen. But oh how grandpa raved over them. And it became a dish I loved to make for family gatherings. My grandmother even gave me a crystal plate from the recesses of her China cabinet with indents around the edge perfect for holding each egg. Deviled Eggs may be simple, they may not be fancy, they may even be cliche, but its the first dish I remember being proud of.
My family may not be close, geographically speaking, but this Easter as I worked in my kitchen, they were all around me, memories dancing in my head, the nostalgia almost overwhelming. And in the evening, I took the not-so-glorious dishes -By B to my other family, sharing them with dear friends, surrounded by love. This is the experience of food for me, it is so much more than the food. Whenever you cook, especially when cooking for others, please remember to take a moment and look around. Appreciate the people you are with and the memories you are making. Your food doesn't have to be fancy to be special.
-By B
