Well, I know I love my mom, but I had no idea that so many of you out there are just as passionate as I am about your moms, grannies, nanas, aunties, surrogate mothers and grandmothers, mother-in-laws, and any other women that shaped and moulded you into who you are today . (To be fair, there were a couple of men too and we feel honoured to have them with us in this very matriarchal gathering.) Yes, it’s the first ever Apples & Thyme ~ celebrating time spent in the kitchen with mothers and grandmothers.

The idea was to come together and share our memories, stories and recipes, and as ideas go, I have to say it was a pretty good one. We’ve laughed, cried, reminisced, exorcised demons and paid tribute, and I would like to thank each and every one of you who joined us for digging deep and sharing your hearts with us.

So get yourself a cup of coffee / tea / cocoa and a box of tissues and prepare to have a night in with the girls:

Kas, my mother, loved the idea of this event and kicked us off with a story about her mom and how they dined Colonial Safari Style on the banks of the Umgezi River in Africa, over 50 years ago.

Mrs W, from Mrs W’s Kitchen, entered early with a heartbreaking post, in which she bravely shared with us her difficult childhood that she heroically overcame, to emerge as a beautiful butterfly in the kitchen. So we celebrate this with her and her delicious Not Your Mother’s Pork Chops.

Priya of food and laughter sent in her entry from India. It’s wonderful to know this event is reaching that far, and Priya gives us an equally wonderful story of remembered family holidays with grandparents, and delicious cooking from her Grandma’s Kitchen.

Su-Lin posted a lovely story on Tamarind & Thyme about her mother’s amazing cooking and one of the delicious desserts she taught Su-Lin to make. The memory all the more precious since Su-Lin lost her mother to cancer only 6 months ago.

Carrie, of Ginger Lemon Girl shares her favourite kitchen heirlooms with us, as well as fabulous memories of her Nan, who sounds like my kind of woman. Her Nan’s famous skillet dinner is a welcome recipe for this roundup as well.

Marie from A Year at Oak Cottage shares with us a nostalgic post and memories that span four generations, as well as her Grammy’s Molasses Cookies, a simply scrumptious recipe, passed down to her on the back of an envelope!

Maryann who blogs at Finding la Dolce Vita shares with us her heartfelt tribute to her mom, grandmother and aunts in her beautifully family-filled post. She also shares a host of lovely pics of all the beautiful women in her family. Thanks for joining us Maryann

Arfi, whose blog Homemades is bilingual (She grew up in Indonesia and lives in Tuakau, New Zealand) has given us a beautiful memory of 3 women in her life who filled her time in the kitchen with love. She weaves this in with stories of family celebrations and memories, and offers a flaky cheese straw recipe.

Brittany, the Pie Lady, gives us a beautiful homage to her beautiful mother, and makes some special cookies for her birthday. Brittany has definitely inherited her mom’s knack of making things look gorgeous.

Kyla of Omnivore, Herbivore, Carnivore sends us a mouth-watering platter of her grandmother’s cookies, and a story of love and kitchen companionship. No wonder Kyla loves food.

Ann from redacted recipes has entered her post on time spent at her grandmother’s ranch, as well as several truly delicious recipes. I love her vintage pics of her pony and her grandmother. This is a heartfelt addition to our gathering. Thank you Ann.

Barb from Pannifers has shared with us some painful but beautiful memories of precious and rare time in her mother’s kitchen. Thanks for joining us Barb, we’re glad you appreciate the event as much as we do.

Onebrownwoman shared special stories of her Nani and her amazing chapattis. She really enjoyed this event, and it shows in her post which is beautiful.

The supreme baker, Helen from Tartelette has graced our Apples & Thyme table with a sweet and elegant Pear and Almond Tart, as well as with memories of her mother and grandmother. I will definitely be making a date to bake this one.

Dolores from Culinary Curiosity struggled with her entry, and I know why. She had so many amazing women who taught her so many amazing things. Dolores it’s a good thing this event is ongoing. Not to mention her father, who welcomed her into his kitchen and taught her to make the family touvlach recipe.

Laurie, of Tastes Like Home, lives in Alaska, but regales us with stories of Froso’s Greek kitchen and how much it influenced her. Froso’s life sounds like what we all aspire to as cooks today, yet the reality is it is constant hard work and it takes a special kind of woman to find joy in the unrelenting rhythm of the seasons, year in and year out, with no recourse to the supermarket. Thanks for introducing Froso to us Laurie.

Ruth at Once upon a Feast shares her Bubbie’s recipe for Kosher spare ribs (she uses veal and it’s a great easy recipe). The memory that goes with it had me grinning inanely at the mental picture it provoked. I’m sorry Ruth, but it was funny. I hope you’re fully recovered now.

My favourite Italian Dreamer, Sognatrice of Bleeding Espresso (how could you not read a blog with that title?) , writes about her mother and her grandmother, and although she includes recipes, it is more about the kind of cook they taught her to be than what they taught her to cook. Sognatrice has a way with words, and judging by her comments on this post, it really resonated with a lot of people.

I am a regular visitor at My French Kitchen, where Ronell blogs, because I am always amply rewarded. Particularly with this post as she timewarped me back down memory lane until I could smell the Stellenbosch air as I watched the mountains haze purple when the sun dropped behind them. Thanks Ronell, beautifully written.

A quirky post about a grandmother on a low salt diet sneaking salty soup from the Chinese takeout, resulted in this delicious Hungarian Sausage and Bok Choi Soup from Habeus Brulee. Grandmothers always make me smile. You’d think it was their job or something

My last story is from my co-host The Passionate Palate. She had a difficult time writing her post. We had both been kicking around the idea of gathering stories and recipes from the women who taught us to cook. Then Jeni’s mom passed away a little over a month ago and we launched the event as a tribute to her mother. Jeni found it too raw to blog about her mom so her post is a sweet memory of her grandmother. Jeni, your mom would be thrilled with the amazing stories of some incredible women. She’s in good company.

So you thought that was it. Oh no, no, ladies. This is only half of it. Seems like everyone felt moved to enter this event. And we’re so pleased you did. For the other half of the roundup please visit Jeni’s blog here.

I’ve really loved hosting this event and I know I have more than one story about my mom and her kitchen ( oh you’d noticed had you?). I’m sure you all do too, so we’re doing it all again next month. Anyone who didn’t quite make it this month, and I know there are quite a few of you, we’d love to hear your stories at the next gathering. We’ll announce deadlines and post logos in a day or two. In the meantime, thank you for joining us, and if anyone’s story has slipped through the cybercracks please mail me with Apples & Thyme in the subject line and I’ll sort it out as soon as possible.

One last word of thanks to my friend Jeanne, without whose advice I’d still be teetering at the starting line of this marathon roundup.

*EDIT*
One more post guys, Joyce, who does not blog but is out there reading a lot of our posts and loving them contacted me over Apples & Thyme and emailed me a story from her mom’s kitchen. This is it (verbatim). Thanks Joyce. Glad to have you with us.

Being somewhat of a nomad, it is difficult for me to think of where a home could be for me, and the closest I can come up with is the kitchen.

And kitchens, there have been many, and cooks, even more. The most comforting one is of course my mother’s. Growing up as a daughter of a Japanese corporate business warrior, we moved frequently. But my mother always made wherever we ended up a home. We always had our trusted rice cooker (that is why even after all these years, I cannot cook rice on stove top), soy sauce, and miso. We explored local foods, and integrated them into our dishes. From my mother, I learned how to be a resourceful home chef.

On our rare trips to Japan while growing up, my favorite place to visit was my uncle’s kitchen. He was a classic Japanese chef in Tokyo, and specialized in prix fixe luncheons and dinners. I relished in the opportunity to learn the basics in his kitchen, from washing dishes to scrubbing yam potatoes. I never graduated to using the knife or even the peeler, but I loved watching his sharp santoku knife carve out the most perfect pieces from a misshapen tuber. In his kitchen, gold flakes danced on salmon arranged in the shape of camellias. In his kitchen, wasabi neatly rested atop a tiny mound of grated daikon radishes. I learned the art of plating, watching hundreds and hundreds of dishes plated to perfection, highlighting the seasonality of the foods. He took me to the Kitchen of the Tokyoites, the Tsukiji fish market, exposing me to the exciting world of wholesale fish market, often leaving the house at three o’clock in the morning. I stayed with them for a week at the end of December to help prepare the traditional New Year’s feast. New Year’s day remains my favorite Japanese holiday.

This might have laid the foundation to me becoming so interested in exploring different foods. Growing up in San Francisco in the late 70s’, China town was the place to go if you wanted real Asian food, or just to experience a little bit of Asia. Trailing behind my father, I remember the hilly neighborhood, and being mesmerized by the exotic smell and bright colors. One of the most memorable foods my father created back then was carp miso soup. It was very oily, as you can imagine, and he had to use a lot of miso to tame the strong taste of the carp. It did not go over well with my mother, especially since she was stuck with the clean up afterwards.

I came of age in Los Angeles, which meant that I got driving privileges and a dramatically increased sphere of activity. I ventured out to areas where my parents would dare not, had great authentic tacos in East Los Angeles, and the best lo mein noodles in Monterey Park. In my mother’s kitchen, I was finally old enough to be the head chef for the New Year’s feast, with much help from my mother.

I always felt like eastern Europe was calling me, so I visited Poland as a volunteer one summer while in college. There I met Anna, the cook for our camp. Anna did not speak English, nor did I Polish, but through sign language and food language common to all cooks around the world, I learned to make pierogi, porridge, and lots of summer dishes with loads of fresh dill. I can still picture her in her scarf and apron, chopping away in her cozy kitchen.

When I visited my parents who were then stationed in Singapore, we sampled local delicacies such as frogs and the fragrant fruit, dorian. It is there that I met my favorite rare and delicate fruit, mangosteen. My mother increased her repertoire while there, and shared her new curry recipes with me in the highly air conditioned kitchen.

Now my in-laws open their kitchens to me. My mother-in-law is a fabulous cook, who was raised in a Pennsylvania Dutch community and has spent some time in France. I love watching the fluidity of her motions when she cooks. She uses fresh herbs and does “subtle” very well. She has converted me to a pie lover with her flaky pie crust and deliciously sweet fruit fillings. Southern breakfast has now become one of my favorites with her biscuits and country ham.

My father-in-law is a native of South Carolina who also spent some time in France, and likes to use lots of spices and exotic ingredients. We’ve harvested and juiced scuppernong grapes and pomegranates from his garden together, and made many batches of syrup and jelly out of them. My husband and I try to help out with the processing of a lot of his produce in his kitchen. We’ve shelled many peas and picked pounds and pounds of tomatoes this year.

As I settle into my very limited kitchen, a new home for us newlyweds, I feel comforted by the influence of many cooks in my life. I’ve learned to live with the remoteness of being the only one in my gene pool on this continent. I’ve made yet another big decision to leave beloved New England and all my friends up north to be closer to my husband’s family. But luckily, leaving a place never has meant loss for me. With every move, there will always be a new kitchen. And in any kitchen, I can always be comforted by my favorite cooks.

Tags: Apples and Thyme, baking, cooking, food blogging event, mother's recipes, mothers, recipes, writing

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