Recently, hubby and I went to visit family. We first went to my uncle’s house for dinner and had some amazing soup. It was cheesy, and potato-y, and reminded me of home. I don’t tend to make a lot of recipes that I grew up with, mostly because of my husband’s different tastes in food. However, during dinner, he leaned over to me and whispered that it would be okay if I made that soup at home.
Later that week, we traveled to my grandma’s house, and to our surprise, we were served the exact same meal. We didn’t complain because it was so good, but it made me start to think.
My aunt is my grandma’s daughter, and she grew up with the foods that my grandma made. She learned how to cook from my grandma. It makes sense that they would have similar tastes and that they would serve similar foods. Whenever I have dinner with my dad’s family, we have fresh made bread, and usually homemade jam with it. I love their amazing food, but it’s not what I grew up eating for every meal.
My mom cooks very differently than my aunt and grandma.
One of the things I remember about my mom’s cooking is that she loves to barbeque. Even during the winter months, she had my little brother shovel a path to the grill so that we could have salmon or steak. I remember one time, when I was home alone with my dad for Father’s Day, I made lasagna because that’s the kind of thing my mom would make. When I told my grandma about it, she commented on lasagna was so fancy and she’d never made it before.
Because I lived in a different country, my tastes in food have drastically changed from when I grew up. I eat a lot more rice than I did growing up, and I use a lot more spices and flavors that I used to. Even so, something as simple as cheesy, broccoli, potato soup can bring back the best of memories. I love how food can be a heritage, and how even the simplest things can bring back our past.