Maybe it's because she died on March 20th, now/already eight years ago, or perhaps because her birthday is March 22nd, but when March comes around I think of spring, and celebrate Mom. This year I wrote about what I inherited from her. It focuses on one aspect of my inheritance, which--as my family and friends know well--relates to the kitchen, and hosting.
“I’m passing the baton to you!” my mother announces. It’s November, 1993. My second child, asleep in my arms, is six months old. My two-and-a-half-year-old daughter is running circles around us in my parents’ home. Mom, in her cavalier, always-the-director way, is waving at the dining room table. She’s talking about my taking over Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners, as well as all other large family gatherings for which cooking is required. Though we’re five kids in our blended family, I am my mother’s oldest, and the closest geographically. We’re staying with my parents until we find a rental not too far away.
A knot in my stomach prevents me from objecting, and so I just nod, not wanting to go against my mother’s pronouncement. Mom adds, “And make sure you prep enough in case we have extra guests!” Not having enough food is a fear that I’ve also inherited.
I did take over those meals, starting with Thanksgiving of that year. I still have the pages from Working Mother magazine's November 1993 issue (see the image below!), and I continue to prepare some of those recipes. Now, thirty-three years and just about that many Thanksgivings later, the pages are wrinkled, taped, and stained.
Holiday hosting has been a part of our family lore forever. Growing up, especially during the holidays and despite our lack of enthusiasm, all the kids were recruited as helpers and directed into service to set up, prep, and serve dinner for our usual 30-plus guests. There was always a list, written in my mother’s famous script, masking-taped to our white-tiled kitchen wall. She would update and cross out as she finished one of the tasks listed.
Our duties ranged from setting the table and vegetable peeling and chopping, to creating individual place cards with lettering and illustrations. Mom was big on guest seating arrangements. Tasks also included passing hors d'oeuvres —caponata and crackers, or warm cheesy bites—assisting with the buffet set up, and clearing the table once guests finished their dinners. We also helped set up dessert, which usually included Mom’s Italian-style ricotta cheesecake, and pignoli cookies served with espresso.
One sister, five years older than I, was given the privilege of reviewing Mom’s list along with her, and sitting next to Dad at the table. My older brother, the oldest of all of us, was also given a seat with the grown-ups. My two younger siblings and I were at the children’s table for years. Mom primarily directed her commands to us younger ones, and spoke in requests to the older ones. At the kids’ table, we rolled our eyes and nudged each other in united jealousy.
Perhaps because I bristled so at the bossiness of my mom, that part of entertaining I didn’t inherit. At least I don’t think so, though you might want to ask my husband and kids! But for decades now, I’ve enjoyed my inheritance of hosting. I love planning a guest list, bringing friends together, designing a menu that includes drinks, appetizers, dinner, and dessert, writing my shopping and prep list, setting the table, creating the environment, and making a playlist.
My husband and I live in an apartment now. Our sit-down dinner parties no longer have the 30-plus guests of days gone by. However, my system remains. Menus are typed, printed, and saved for reference. Lists are also typed into my computer, and, like my mom, I enjoy crossing out items as I complete them.
As I type just now, my son texts me,
“I’m making salmon tonight. I want to make that sauce you make with dill, Grandma Sonia’s recipe.”
I look through her old recipe notes, on index cards in a file box that I keep in a drawer near my cookbooks. I rifle through all the recipes and find this one, handwritten by my mom. I photograph it and send it to my son, and then follow up with a text.
“You might want to double this," I tell him, "you know, in case some others come by.”
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| Mom and Dad with an Angel :) |
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| 1993 Working Mother Recipes--and Some of My Menus! |
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| Buffet --All Set |
