I have had a life long quest for the perfect Fork.
The perfect fork of food. Actually with my love of food its a wonder I am not the size of a house. A small garden shed maybe, a large dogs house but not a house. I am not a svelte woman. I know what other woman call their bingo wings are in reality cheese wings. There is a direct correlation to the size of the flappers and the amount of cheese consumed.
Once upon a time this would be the month for cheese wings. In America, In December, every where you turn there is cheese. Being that it is a month of celebration, us Americans can justify a bit of extra expense. So the cheese you find is extra special. Aged longer. Served with better accompaniments. Blended into to delicious family cheese balls. Ours is Grandma Wanda’s recipe. I have a following for my cheese balls in my new home of England. Just this week I have had 4 phone calls. Friends asking nonchalant questions so they can squeeze in “are you making cheese balls this year?”. Of course I am making cheese balls this year, and cranberry pound-cake. We’ll see about the cookies fudge and brownies.
Now to any other American reading this it is the norm. We Cook. We cook for our families we cook for our friends, it is not unheard to cook for the firehouse or your local Doctors office. Oh and of course when someone dies, has surgery, or is just unwell we cook. Our mother passed away this week. My sister has not cooked for eight days. She lives in America. Her neighbors, friends, people from my nephews school, gym friends they are showing up with meals, frozen dishes, baked goods. We cook.
Luckily the American in me runs deep in my veins and I cook. And I freeze, so in my freezer I have meals prepared. Enchiladas, lasagna, baked ziti, shepherds pie… So I have heated up this week.
I miss cooking. If I go a few days without it I miss it. Today I will cook. I have a pot of chicken stock cooking now. It will become chicken vegetable soup. Hot chicken sandwiches, and a chicken pie. The cooking will fill my heart and soul. The cooking will bring me closer to my daughter. She will help me cut carrots, celery, leeks and potatoes. We will sit as a family at our table and eat what we have created. We will feed my husband, her daddy. The pie will be his favourite. My dad would have loved the hot chicken sandwiches smothered in homemade gravy. Maybe with a side of stuffing. For me and my mom it would be the soup. Nice hot Chicken soup so thick veggies you can not see the chicken. With enough black pepper you can feel it in your chest. So today I cook. Today I fill my soul.