How did that happen?

I am admittedly a pretty bad cook. As an obvious sign of love, Seth bought me cooking lessons early in our marriage. To his dismay, I didn't fulfill them and we moved. I remain a lovingly, regrettably bad cook. I have 30+ cookbooks on display. I adore looking through them. I have grand visions of becoming a gourmet chef merely by osmosis. Nevertheless, I remain a bad cook.

Unless, I'm following a tried and true easy recipe. Most of these don't come from my vast cookbook collection. They come from my friends. I have my 'granola' friend who was 'tortellini soup' until we became so close that I was actually at her house early in the morning and got to sample her homemade granola. That beat the tortellini soup. There's my 'banana jam bread' friend. She didn't have jam so the bread has double the bananas and is undoubtably the best banana bread I've ever had. My spinach quiche friend doesn't even know that is what she is known for in my kitchen. She's a good cook--she throws things together and never uses a recipe. The quiche she made one morning for my family was delectable. That was first time I ever ate fresh spinach and liked it. My kids probably wish that morning hadn't happened! I've got an applesauce friend and one of my sisters is most definitely baked ziti.

I was having a baking frenzy and realized that each time I make a recipe that someone else shared with me I think of them as I prepare and then eat it.

Reminiscing in the kitchen is a dangerous game. Add five 'helpers' to the chaos of granola, banana bread, and lasagna at various stages of baking...crazy things happen. Like tossing butter into the microwave to 'soften' and not realizing that you hit "2:00".