By: Kathy Trill
Some of my fondest childhood memories are of summers spent in
northern Michigan with my Aunt Joyce on her family farm. The days were spent in
nature playing in streams, picking berries, running through the yard barefoot
and exploring endless miles of farmland with my cousin Mark. Although all of that
was a blast, there is one memory that lives in my heart. It is the memory of my
aunt guiding me through the process of making her delicious apple pie in that
old farmhouse kitchen in the coolness of the afternoon, sun setting so the
house would not be too hot from baking.
In my bare feet I picked the apples that had fallen to the ground
and carefully inspected them. Of course grabbing one to taste-test was part of
the process, quality assurance. I would gather the apples in my shirt and take
them to my aunt for her approval. In the kitchen after she picked the best from
my careful selection we would stand side-by-side at the counter, and without a
recipe I would watch her craft a pie shell that would later become the lightest,
flakiest pie crust. It was my job to peel and cut the apples, and I felt
honored that she allowed me to be part of the process. My father said her apple
pies were the best he had ever eaten because of the love she put into each pie.
The thing that strikes me as funny is that I am not even a fan
of apple pie. I never have been. It was the time that we spent together, quiet
and relaxing, that makes that memory so special. Not only was our time together
educational, but she made me feel like the most important kid in the world. I
remember basking in the pride that I felt as my aunt gave me credit for making
such a fabulous lattice-top apple pie. She told my dad, “Kathy made the whole
thing. She picked the perfect apples, cut them and added butter, flour, sugar…
I just helped.”
What we put on our plate is secondary to the nourishment of our
whole being; it is our primary food that sustains our wellbeing and keeps us
healthy. There is something about being creative in the learning environment of
the kitchen that still feeds my soul today. We have somehow gotten so off-track
with quality time in the kitchen. In a time when children are suffering from
diseases that used to only show up in old age, we need to find our way back to
building self-esteem and teaching kids life skills in the kitchen by being
creative with real food. Too many of us are on empty and turn to the wrong
things to fill the love tank.