It is hard to hear the pot boil when its raining...

Yesterday, I made this profound observation to my husband as I was making beef stew while it poured buckets outside. I suggested it would make a fun title for my food blog. My husband didn't really think it was funny, but fortunately I had a three year old willing to chime in with, "you're funny, Mom" so my self-esteem remained intact.

Still, it got me thinking. Hmmm...a food blog. Not just to make a lame joke my husband won't laugh at, but it might help me think about and plan for our meals as well as share a bit of my inherited wisdom with others. I've struggled lately with cooking. My mother was well known for her cooking and baking, and for most of my life I have carried this skill and love with me. Lately, though, I've struggled with meal preparation as more of a chore than the expression of creativity and loving nurture I've known it to be. I'm not ready to succumb to accepting cooking as mere drudgery--not yet anyway!

I lost my mother unexpectedly 3 1/2 years ago while I was expecting my second son. The times I miss her most but also have some of my most vivid memories are in the kitchen. Perhaps this is both why my passion for cooking has fizzled a bit and why I am determined to relight the fire.

The first step to starting a blog, of course, is the title. My husband nixed my first idea, but I've often chuckled over the Chesterton quote:

The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.

Admittedly, cheese is not very poetic, and yet, it is so very good. How can such a such a perfect food be unsuitable for verse? One theory I have is it's because it is just too good for words, and they simply cannot express its sublimity. Whatever the reason, I am reminded that the poets are mysteriously silent about much of what might constitute my own culinary experiences as a mother of little ones. And yet, the spirit of what is communicated in a meal through the loving preparation, the pleasure of taste, and its communal nature is truly beautiful.

Creating this beautiful thing for my family (and nurturing my own soul in the process) must involve many prosaic things like spills and stains, peels and pith, gristle and grease, burns and backaches, cuts and crumbs, meat raw or rancid, dirty dishes, and of course, cheese. I must become ever more efficient and diligent so that the irksome and ordinary might bring forth the things that will comfort and inspire my family. This is true of many things as a homemaker, but this is especially true regarding food and the sharing of meals.

My hope is that having a place to muse over menus, recipes, and share my experiences and insights from my life in my kitchen will be a source of joy as well as accountability that can help me hold onto my love of cooking and perhaps encourage others in the process.