The Source of All Our Great Meals

We were over at my parents tonight for a typical meal of fresh garden vegetables, homemade bread, strawberries, grilled zucchini's topped with basil and garlic, risotto ai funghi (mushroom) and stracciatella (egg) soup. All brought to its delicious melodic height with wine.

Growing up, everything was made from scratch in my house. Everything. Each girlfriend, friend, confidante, colleague etc. I ever brought were always stunned at the dedication my mother - 2nd generation Canadian - and a few of her entourage (aunts, friends etc.) had towards food. Our house was the place to be.

In a way, while this was incredibly healthy and tasty, it did create a rather critical eater. Very few restaurants make the grade with me. My younger brother and sister are far more lenient than either myself or our oldest sister. Yes, your math is accurate, we're four in total. But we are all in agreement that women of a certain generation are a dying breed. Who has time for this sort of stuff anymore? Once upon a time we took it for granted. Now we are all clamouring to get a hold of the magic and secrets on how to make, for example, a proper bruschetta.

If a restaurant sells itself as 'authentic Italian' they'd better damn well be. Not only was I spoiled, I actually read up on the history of Italian food and learnt quite a bit about it while visiting the Old Country. 95% of the time - my own figures - Italian restaurants cater to local tastes and as such are not authentic. Not even close. It's made me impossible to be around at times. A silent hush would alway follow the question, "Hey Commentator, what do you think of the food?"

My mother is no better. She's naturally suspicious. It's hilarious to watch 'The Food Network' with her. While she does have her favorites she respects, her unimpressed look of boredom makes us laugh every time. Yet, she watches and owns every recipe book offered by the people she watches. Hey, she gives people a shot.

We've always wanted to market my mother's cooking but it never happened. She's built herself a stellar reputation. I remember meeting some relatives from Connecticut and the conversation quickly moved to 'Filomena's talent'.

Good for us. Anyway, this was just a build up to what I wanted to say. I walked into the kitchen later on in the night and my mother was holding a newspaper that was obviously kind of old. When she got up and left and I walked over to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.

Some American recipe about apple pies going back to 1982! She kept the darn thing. Right then and there I knew the source of her greatness. Love and dedication - not to mention memory and organizational skills.