Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

I just want to start this off by saying first, that my mom is an amazing woman and a fantastic cook and second, that she ordered me (really and truly) to NOT get her anything for Mother's Day.  If that is what she wants, fine, but she didn't order me to NOT write a blog post dedicated to her and to the food legacy that she built for me.  So, Mom: this is for you.  Happy Mother's Day, because I love you!

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post about the impact my mother's pancakes made on me as a child and as an adult (Fall Way Back).  I was thinking about that post and about how food memories are made when I decided to write this one.  I started thinking about it because we all often have some special person in our lives that cooks something in particular that seems impossible to replicate for one reason or another.  For me, it is not my mom's pancakes (I feel that I have actually mastered that one - I can make some variant of pancakes almost in my sleep now), though, as the other post explains, those particular breakfasts made an indelible impression upon me, even as a small child.  It is not even my grandmother's brownie recipe, which my mom and my aunt have each altered in their own ways and good-naturedly discuss as to which is the "original" recipe and, more specifically, which makes the better brownie.  (I have made my own variations on that one, as well, so I think I've got it down).  No, the one thing that my mother makes that I have tried and tried and tried and tried to cook on my own, but fail miserably every single time: chicken spaghetti, my past, present and future favorite food, its permanency in my life evidenced by my own Mother's Day card this morning, made by my oldest daughter, in which she correctly identified that as my favorite dinner. 

Chicken spaghetti, in my mom's excellent hands, is a very odd combination of chicken (of course), onions, cream of mushroom soup, V-8 juice, Worcestershire sauce and garlic powder, often with a green bell pepper or a package of fresh mushrooms thrown in for good measure, and, traditionally, served over plain spaghetti noodles.  I know the recipe by heart and though I consider myself quite adept at actually following a written recipe, I have never NEVER been able to fix this meal that in any way compares to my mom's version.  Honestly, I have completely stopped trying, even though my oldest daughter also adores the meal.  Is it the little changes that I tried to make over the years - subbing out a lower fat version of the soup or possibly adding extra, fresh garlic? Maybe it was the introduction of whole wheat pasta into my repertoire?   Hell if I know.  What I do know is that, when I make it, it doesn't taste right.  My mom has made successful changes in the recipe, though.  When my son was diagnosed with food allergies, she dutifully switched to a vegan Worcestershire sauce (the original version contains anchovies) as well as to a different brand of pasta (100% whole wheat and not processed with eggs).  Even with those changes, hers still tastes vastly better than anything I have ever made.

My mom and I have often discussed my inability to adequately cook chicken spaghetti.  To a certain extent, she thinks it is all in my head - my perception that I suck at chicken spaghetti has become my reality.  She does, however, admit that she too has a recipe of my grandmother's that she won't attempt: fried pork chops.  I am not sure that this particular recipe was ever written down, but, as I was thinking about writing this post this morning, I convinced myself that pork chops were not a common menu item in my house when I was growing up.  I actually remember my grandmother cooking pork chops during a summer we spent with them in their old house in Las Vegas, but, for the life of me, I cannot come up with a time that my mom tried to recreate that particular meal.  (She does cook pork by the way - roasts and other cuts - just not chops.)  She has a pork chop block, just like I have a chicken spaghetti block. 

My mother may think that my chicken spaghetti ineptitude may be mostly mental, but, God love her, she triples every batch of chicken spaghetti she makes now - enough to feed her, my sister and my entire family, plus enough sauce for me to take home, freeze and use to feed my family for another night.  (Chicken spaghetti is almost better when frozen, defrosted and reheated another day.  It is the weirdest recipe.  For reals.)  Oddly enough, I am also conscripted, every single time, to taste the sauce before it is deemed worthy to dress the pasta and serve.  Sometimes, more often than not, it is perfectly seasoned, but very occasionally, I suggest adding more Worcestershire sauce or garlic powder.  She will adjust the seasoning, I will taste and together we will make sure the chicken spaghetti is right. 

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  I love you for so many reasons, all beyond your unique ability to cook chicken spaghetti!  You have made me the person I am today and I can only hope that I am creating the same kind of food legacy for my kids as you have created for me.  I wonder what their "chicken spaghetti block" will be....