** Please be warned, this is a sentimental post **
As a wedding present, my great-gramma Roxie gave me the Fannie Farmer cookbook as revised by Marion Cunningham. The inscription page reads, “to the home cooks of America, young and old.” At the time, I had no clear idea of what a “home cook” was. Cooking was something you most certainly did at home, but I had no idea how much the phrase would start to grow into my personal identity over the past 6 years.
I was by most people’s account a young bride at the age of 20, and home cooking for me, up to that point, had consisted of little more than spaghetti with pre-made sauce and salads topped with “ramen popcorn” (ie: broken up, dried ramen – a culinary delight). Seasonal vegetables were the vegetables in my father’s summer garden and little more than that.