Family and Food

At any given moment, there are dirty dishes in my sink. Most of the time, there are a lot of them. And I’m ashamed to admit that once or twice, I’ve neglected a mountain of dirty dishes with the excuse that the dishwasher was full. Only to find it empty. Two days later.

There are also fingerprints all over my dishwasher. And my oven. And most of my cupboard doors.

But it’s home and nowhere near the disrepair of the living room. At least not yet.

With two under two, most people might question my sanity when I announce that it’s my intention to make this small project something bigger—a business that inspires people to make meals memorable by making them. Where I invite friends and strangers to join me in the kitchen to create something healthful and delicious. Even I was compelled to verify mental health benefits through my insurance carrier before moving forward.

But it's moments such as having my roux burn as I remind my toddler that her princess potty seat goes on the potty—not on her head, or carving a turkey with a colicky newborn strapped to my chest in our Baby Bjorn, that remind me that even if I don’t have everything figured out, I have a passion for melding family and food.

And that is a recipe that sets the stage for something wonderful.