The Mothership

Many of my recipes involve a good amount of garlic and onion. Well I am experimenting with a special diet for one of my lovelies and the diet excludes or strongly suggests to omit garlic and onion. I use those ingredients in just about every one of my recipes. My grandmother made a phenomenal Fish Soup; a recipe passed down to my mother as well. I love the thought of family recipes, and feel a bit guilty at the thought of changing them. But I am making adjustments as I see fit, to suit the needs of my family. So here is a version of my grandmother's fish soup. *just as with any soup I always taste before serving. Sometime I need extra salt and sometimes I don’t. We do not overly salt our foods so you may need extra.  Ingredients: 5 whole carrots, peeled and sliced into rounds 4 stalks of celery, sliced and chopped cooking oil (I used avocado oil) Salt pepper 1 tsp. Cumin 1&1/2 tsp. Ginger 2 lbs. Tilapia 1/2 tsp. thyme 1 cup cut, uncooked, Green beans 1/2 sweet re

We have been cooped up for many a days now. I am tired of cooking. I am tired of all the directing of chaos. I am tired of being the good listener. I am tired...for many reasons. But mostly because I am spent. I've spent all the energy I have on the daily of pouring into my little brood.  I have come to terms with the idea of rest. Rest might be a figment of my imagination?!?!  This job will forever be exhausting. However, what if I changed my expectations? What if instead of saying, "That wasn't what I had hoped for...that wasn't what I expected," I look to what was there? What was in the midst of the moment enveloped in goodness? What was in the little efforts? What were the intentions? Expectations help us strive for more and reach for high goals. I see the value behind those benchmarks. Friends, expectations, though they start with good intentions, set limitations. Expectations can be humbling motivators, and I believe are at the driving point

I love experimenting in the kitchen and the more I do it, the more comfortable I get with making mistakes. As a child, I would stand with my tippy toes stretching and my head straining to see exactly what my grandmother would be orchestrating. She was ALWAYS cooking.  You know how your memory fades, but for memories that mean so much to you, they are imprinted in your mind?!?? And if you close your eyes hard enough it’s like you are right there in the memory?!? One thing I can still picture to this day is her arthritic hands stirring ingredients. She rarely used a spoon for stirring. She almost always used her pair of hands. The hands that God gave her. The hands that orchestrated so many things...notes, lists, phone calls, present wrapping, crossword puzzle filling, hugs, finger shaking, and stirring ingredients most frequently. My grandmother was amazing. She is my tie to the “hills” and my reason for being slightly sassy. She always encouraged me to make things in the kitchen and to