About KD

My grandmother Ruth is the inspiration for this blog. She is part of the reason why I took up cooking in the first place and most of the reason why I know how powerful food can be.

There is a Middle Eastern tradition that goes something like this: if you share a meal with someone, you are friends for life. Such is the power of food. It can create whole relationships and soothe past grievances. It can literally create peace. My grandmother knew this, believing that food could heal what ailed us. She understood on a deep level the bonds created around the table.

Of course, my grandmother also knew the anxiety and frustration that comes when someone at the table (usually me) stuck their nose up at something she labored over so lovingly. In this way, then, food can also create strife, revealing the other side of its power.

Grandma worked magic in the kitchen, stirring up stick-to-your-ribs meals big enough to feed whole armies. I never once saw her reach for a recipe box. She did everything from memory and sheer instinct. Her specialties grew out of her life lived in the Southern US–Arkansas and Texas with a smidge of southern Kansas and eastern Oklahoma–so she served a lot of things that were fried, smeared in gravy, and laden in fat.

I don’t mean to leave my mom out of this. She made all sorts of things I still consider comfort foods, the kinds of things I seek out when I’m not feeling good or when I need a reminder that I am loved. But my relationship with my mom connects in different ways and I honor her for other achievements. My memories of my grandmother, though, are nearly always of us sitting around her table, usually eating something she created from scratch, and almost always drinking a cup of sweetened iced tea or hot coffee.

Neither of my grandmothers nor my mom allowed us kids in the kitchen much. My forays into cooking as a child and teenager were definitely done when no adult was around and typically included a blue box of macaroni and cheese or a tube of refrigerated cinnamon rolls. Beyond that, if I tried to make something on my own, it was usually a disaster. The story of my first try making chocolate chip cookies lives on in infamy to this day. The second attempt, several years later, was better but can still bring up some giggles if you ask the right people about it.

Needless to say, for a long time–until I was in my mid-30s–I had no desire to cook. My confidence in the kitchen was nil. In my lifetime, my experiences tended to be a blend of mistakes, goof-ups, and let-downs. As an adult, I tried to cook now and then, to impress my husband or friends, but too often I chose to make things that were overly complicated, time-consuming, and/or messy. Too often, after hours sweating over the stove in the kitchen, the end results were disastrous or, worse, tasteless. This only served to destroy what little confidence I had to begin with.

It wasn’t until Pam, a friend of mine in Seattle, suggested the Barefoot Contessa cookbooks that the clouds parted and the angels started to sing, welcoming me into the kitchen. Every single recipe I have made from Ina Garten’s treasure of books has turned into a success. Her instructions are easy to follow, most of the time the ingredients are very familiar, her methods are simple, and everything is packed with flavor. Everything.

I owe Pam a meal for suggesting the Contessa’s work to me. Between Ms. Garten’s cookbooks and her TV show on Food Network, my love of cooking has blossomed, so too, my realization of just how powerful my grandmother was with her ability to feed her family in such creative and delicious ways.

My journey into the kitchen really only started about five years ago. As a result, I still cannot stray far from a recipe like my grandma did but I feel her looking in on me and applauding my efforts, encouraging me to learn. Some part of me believes that if I just keep doing it, things will click and one day I will be able to put ingredients together without necessarily leaning on the printed words of someone else. Until then, I continue to utilize recipes that give me confidence. Yes, I flub up sometimes, but it’s not about being perfect, it’s about learning.

So now that you know a little bit about where I’m coming from, my goal going forward is to not only open my heart and mind to the power of food but to share with you what I’ve learned. Food, time spent in the kitchen and around a table are all experiences meant to be shared. As such, this blog will extend beyond my own kitchen. My hope is to also share stories and insights on favorite restaurants and inspiring meals shared with friends.

This isn’t just about me, though. I want to hear from you. Tell me your own experiences of favorite meals (made or eaten or both). Together, at this virtual table we share, we can unlock the mysteries of food and become friends for life.