Yesterday did turn out to be pretty good after all. Nothing exciting, nothing horrible. We had company for dinner and I served my famous Corned Beef Pie, a dish everyone either hates, or loves. This was my grandmother’s recipe, and who knows how it came into her possession. I’m just glad it did; this is one of my favorite dishes, though I can’t seem to make the crust as well as I did years ago.
This year I’m really anticipating fall. I love to make homemade stew and bread; there’s something soothing in such foods which makes me feel nurtured and cozy. When I putter around the kitchen kneading bread dough, or adding spuds to the stew, I feel as if I’m taking care of my family in a way that meets more than their “rumbly-in-the-tumbly” needs (to put it in Pooh Bear parlance!) I can’t help but feel sorry for individuals, male or female, who never cook, who are not acquainted with the simple pleasure of providing sustenance for their loved ones by creating their own special dishes. Even on days when I’m under the weather, I’ll often push myself to make something special. My loved ones could live without it, no doubt, but I’m creating more than meals here—I’m creating irreplaceable memories.