Steam up those windows...

For me the stretch of winter between January through Feburary is always about hunkering down. I tend to get rooted to home and projects and day dream about the warmer days to come when I can be outside doing the things I really love. I find myself dreading January and February, but in actuality, I think the record would show these are good months for me. I get a lot done when I'm staying focused on home, and though my expanding waistline might disagree, I get so much enjoyment out of cooking in the cold, winter days. It is interactive entertainment (especially if you involve your kids) and it is thoughtful attention to a task that I find really relaxing. And then there's the eating. It's hard to beat summer produce but a comfort laden winter meal comes close. Love you hot cinnamon-y oatmeal, Mmmm pasta with alfredo sauce and peas and ham, yum bread pudding, ahhhh french onion soup smothered in gruyere, yes roasted chicken with mashed potatoes, more please chipotle spiked roasted squash and salty oven roasted brocooli..... so many good tastes and sensations. And I get inexplicably warm inside when I see the stock pot steaming up the windows in my kitchen and then look out to the snow covered trees and roofs beyond. It's a gorgeous feeling, and such a good reminder of the safety and comfort and blessings I have within the walls of my home.

Cooking is a powerful thing. It is one of those uniquely human acts....can't think of a time I've ever heard about a monkey or a dog boiling up some pasta...and since cooking ultimately leads to eating, it is a cornerstone of our species' survival. But let's not forget that it can also be very fun. I might be somewhat biased with that statement since I've always liked to cook, but I really think it is true. The process of making food, especially for loved ones or to celebrate a special occasion is galvanizing. I love the tradition of taking food to a family with a brand new baby. Funeral food and baby shower food are distinct and recognizable breeds. Funeral cheesy potatoes anyone? Chciken salad with grapes on crossiant? I love the way food and certain dishes or tastes can link to memories and to people. My dad? He's swedish pancakes and cucumber and swiss sandwiches on rykrisp or limpa. My mom? She's hot fudge sauce and pork roasts with perfect gravy. My sister? Sugar cookies and banana cake. My grandma Mere? Swedish spritz and apricot nectar. Jaren? A perfectly cooked fried or poached egg with feta and spinach. Food creates legacies and merriment. I really believe that. It's a belief I hope I'm instilling in my kids each and every day they watch (and help) me in the kitchen.

Yesterday was Cleo's 6th birthday. (Unimaginable!) We spent literally a few hours of the morning making her birthday cake, a delectable and insane 6 layer rainbow deal inspired by this picture of baked loveliness I randomly found online. Though our final product bore no resemblance to that one (and lost 2 layers to a tragic pan sticking incident), it was really fun to spend the birthday morning in our robes, spilling sugar, splattering egg whites, and swirling vibrant colors into batter. It felt celebratory, and like so much in life, I think the effort made the taste all the sweeter.