We're a family of 5 - myself, Tina, daughters Molly and Abigail, and dog Brooks.
For the last 8 years, Brooks has been unable to produce digestive enzymes, so he eats a way-too-expensive dog food made sprinkled with powdered pig pancreas. This blog is about what the rest of us eat.
We live outside of Buffalo NY, in the land of disused grain elevators, steel mills, leaky cellars and sports fans more bitter than the winters. Umm...what I meant was land of cool lake breezes, endless fertile farm land, natural resources, and delicious locally raised animals. I guess it's the land of all of the above.
We, Tina and I, both grew up in families where life, in many ways, revolved around food. The concept of a "family dinner" wasn't even really a term we were aware of, since I don't believe either of us knew of anything else. Every meal was a family meal. Tina's family is big and Italian. Her mother IS the stereotypical Italian Matriarch, making her red sauce for Sunday night dinners and making sure everyone's plate is always full. Her kitchen, in fact - their whole house, seems to revolve around an enormous Magic Chef stove/oven from the 30's. It has 6 burners on a massive cast iron top, with two ovens and a warming compartment stacked up next to it. It is the family hearth that their edible traditions (aren't those the best kind?) spring from, whether it's the red sauce, the fried foods for New Years, or the ricotta and rice pies for Easter. It's always on, and there is usually something bubbling away on top.
My extended family's biggest culinary tradition is that we enthusiastically eat everything. Not having a singular, strong background might have something to do with that. It seems like I have bits and pieces from most European countries aside from the ones that contributed to most of Buffalo's early immigrant population (Polish, Italian, Irish and German). I grew up in downstate NY (and by moving to Buffalo have apparently completed the ethnic mix), in a house overflowing with books, where on some of the walls hung hand-printed menus with wine pairings from my parents' dinner gatherings with their friends in local restaurants. Growing up, there were simple weekday dinners together in the kitchen and weekend dinners in the dining room (sip of wine allowed). It was just the 3 of us. I remember grinding pork, with Mom, to make Chinese dumplings for Dad. I remember Dad assembling intricate chocolate cakes, requiring protractors and graph paper, for Mom's birthday. I couldn't wait for Sunday morning scrambled eggs. I loathed the plum pudding at Christmas time (still do), but I was the youngest out of all the kids, so I got the first piece. Our family took pleasure in simple meals and complex creations - as long as they were homemade and enjoyed together.
What's to take from all this? I guess that there's nothing special about us. We just both grew up in families with strong gatherings, traditions and daily enjoyment that revolved around food. It's always been more than just nutrition and trying to fill a growling stomach.
We're the same with our girls. We shop, garden, cook and eat together, whether it's spaghetti and meatballs or a big bowl of pad thai. Food & Family, together.
~ andrew
