I come from a large family of 12 children. To say that mealtime was a big event three times a day is an understatement! My fondest memories are sitting at our 5’ by 15’ table my dad custom constructed for family meals. Each day milk, eggs and dairy were delivered (gallons of milk and dozens of eggs were consumed each day!). The bread and produce men came by in small trucks and my mom would go out to the driveway and buy food for the day. Shipped into the home were canned goods – we had a pantry most “doomsday preppers” would envy!


My mother cooked elaborate meals for all of us and we ate together as a family. The dinner table was where we as kids knew we would always see our busy father who was rarely home and was always working to provide for his family. Where we knew we were safe. Where we would be heard. Where we could tell a funny story and people would laugh. Where we felt loved and appreciated. Where we saw love and appreciation from my father to my mother for all she did every day for his family. Where all the hardships of the day would be on pause. It was our salvation. Our place to recharge. Our place to be ourselves with no pretense or pain.


So, my story today is from my roots of yesterday. My passion is from the impact this had on me as a child of the importance of cooking and eating together. I love cooking because to me, from my mother, cooking is love. I am joyful to be able to provide this gift given to me to as many people as possible in hopes that they feel the joy I have felt my entire life.


Fresh and healthy food is for a healthy body and healthy soul. Leaving the world outside to enjoy a meal together helps us toward a happier life with our family and friends that mean the most to us. “breaking bread” is an old Southern saying but a good one. It means togetherness, family, friends, sharing and happiness. Providing that meal to “break bread” is my joy and happiness.