Thanks for the Memories
I was extremely fond of my mother's mother, Nanny. I have the fondest food memories of her. When we would go to Nanny's house in the summer months we knew there was work involved with getting dinner ready. I was the kind of child who could occupy my alone time very well. So my grandmother would give me peas to shell and beans to snap. I was totally engrossed in the task to the point that I never noticed that the tips of my little 6 year old fingers were turning purple from shelling black eyed peas. I loved doing this simple yet monotonous task. I loved feeling of the little shiny, soft but firm feeling peas in my grubby hands. Eating them was the best part of my labor. My grandmother would take nice thick slice of bacon and an onion and cut them into small pieces and throw them in the pot along with my shelled peas. When dinner was ready I would eat a HUGE bowl of peas with some butter, salt and pepper. I didn't need meat or anything else, just those peas. It is memories like these that makes food so comforting to me.

So natually, being a personal chef I have the ability to give those memories and feelings of comfort back to my clients. Over the last few years I have aquired three or four sets of Senior clients. These are folks who want to stay in their homes to live out the rest of their lives surrounded by the things that are most familiar to them. I feel honored to go into their homes and be with them. The thing about this arrangement is that it's a win win situation. I get to feel like I am that little kid back on my grandmother's front porch shelling peas and they get to talk about memories from the past. For some reason I connect with these people like no other age group that I have worked for. They remind me of my grandmother so much. They are a reminder to me that our past is slipping away one person at a time. Food history and memories die with these people. Memories of their family gatherings die with them. If their family members don't carry on those traditions, they are gone forever.

I take this gift very seriously and the lesson that comes with it. Food is the great connector for all of us. There are so many memories revolving around food. The lesson that I have learned the most is to do whatever it takes to continue my family's traditions that were set forth by my grandmother and mother. It is my responsibility to carry on the traditions and memories that I hold near and dear to my heart. It is a honor for me to be with these folks and honestly I can't think of a better way to spend a day.


Mrs. Evans is in her 80s and wheelchair bound. She never fails to spend time with me in her kitchen when I come. We talk about what has gone on with my family and hers. We look out at her garlic chives and talk about them coming back again next spring. When all is quiet, I look up and she has fallen asleep in the wheelchair. I just keeping talking away and she picks up the convervsation right where we left off when she wakes up. She is always amazed at the amount of equipment that I drag in and what I can create with four bags of groceries. Her and Mr. Evans are pretty simple eaters and I find comfort in this fact. They come from a more simple time in life and I think they have carried that into their love for plain uncomplicated food. I consider this an honor and a privledge to spend time with them all because of food. Thanks for the memories, Mrs. Evans!