Today is of course Easter Sunday, but this year has been a bit odd in how it played out, with Matt's Birthday celebration spreading over two weekends, but of a smaller size, me not being well, but getting better, and having to buy a new fridge, having been without one for 3 1/2 weeks! So no egg hunt, no chocolate, no fanfare...but definitely grateful for the real reason that we do those other things...but back to business! I watched a movie today (I also walked the dogs and did laundry so this is a good day). I've seen this movie before,about a young woman who Blogs her way through Julia Child's cookbook. I enjoyed it so much that I had no trouble watching it again. It also made me realize how distinctly linked Julia Child and my mother are in my mind! I see Julia Child, and I see my mother cooking. As you can see by the picture at left, there is nothing in similarity of looks between Julia and my mother. My mother, is a definite "looker" and Julia, on the other hand was...well...not! There is also about 4 feet of height difference between the two of them, and my mother can speak French fluently, whereas Julia Child was still learning! But my mother, with a copy of Mastering-Art-French-Cooking in her hand, was a force to be reckoned with. That book, with the little tear at the top of the blue/green cover, evokes memories of good smells, wonderful sauces, and desserts to die for. Mother's pastry was so light and flaky that it simply melted in your mouth. My particular favourite traditionally appeared each Christmas...Mince Pies! YUM!!! In fact there were more than a few Christmases when everyone had gone to bed, that I would sneak down the stairs to quietly pry off the lid of that prized, square, blue, tart tin, and gently lift 1...2...no, usually 3 beautiful little pies, and whisk them off to be lovingly devoured in the quiet of my room! ...as I said previously.....YUM! The Christmas of '79 was a particularly "pie filled" celebration. I was actually in hospital, having just given birth to Paul, and mother imported the mince pies right to me...an entire tin...to myself!!!!! About 24 hours after those gems had been delivered, the supply was getting a bit low, when the nurses came in with little Paul, stuffed in a Christmas stocking, with a tiny cap on his head...but he was crying. The nurses explained, as I prepared to nurse him, that he had begun to suffer from diarrhea. They wanted to know if I had been eating a lot of fruit....my simple 19 year old mind leaped to apples; oranges; bananas...but I had none of those! It was a mystery!!!! Coincidentally, when I finished the mince pies, Paul started to feel better, and Christmas was over so alas for me, but good for Paul, the "tart season" was over.:(
Mom has made many, many, many, mince pies since then, and all my boys have had the privilege of savouring them just as much as I did.
Anywhere that Matthew and I have ever eaten, the food is always compared, and never succeeds "Nana's" cooking.
Thanks Mom...you've really got to see this movie.
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