In the Kitchen

"oh the past is too much with me in the kitchen."

-jeanne marie beaumont-

Day 24/31: today i made my grandma dee's chicken spaetzle soup. i make it quite often, even in the hot texas summer months. today i added some turmeric to the broth. after i added it, i kinda felt bad, as if it was an act of infidelity to the original soup. whenever i make it, i think about her and how she made this same soup for her seven children. she shredded the chicken, and separated the white from the dark meat and kept them in separate bowls, to please one of the kids who wanted to add the chicken to their bowl only. one summer when i was visiting her in michigan and making the soup with her, she told me to grab a mixing bowl to make the spaetzle. she had dozens of bowls in her cabinets. i took one that was medium-sized, pale yellowish, and it wasn't quite perfectly circular. it looked vintage and by then it probably was. i will never forget her look of amazement that i happened to choose that bowl. she said, of all the bowls, you picked the one i have made spaetzle in for 40 years. 

after she died, i was there and took that bowl back to texas with me. it is our spaetzle bowl. it is an imperfect bowl, yet it has survived many decades, and many moves. i wash it carefully because i hope that it can continue to fulfill its role in being loyal to the soup, even when i deviate by adding a foreign spice.

when i read this poem, When I Am In The Kitchen, i felt like it kinda captured the essence of the bowl, and so many other things in the kitchen that we can associate with loved ones past and present. our people live on through us, and sometimes in those tangible objects that we appreciate now more than ever.