Cooking my way through cookbooks: part 3

I love it when recipes tell a story.

Let’s take my mom’s lasagna as an example. When I think about it, it’s not just the taste that comes to mind but also a wave of accompanying senses and emotions that I associate with it.

Sounds: her moving around in the kitchen, yelling at my dog who was acutely aware of the advantages of kitchen scraps, sight: observing the rhythm of her hands as she assembled ingredients, watching the cheese bubble up around the edges and crisp in the oven, and yes, of course taste and smell: the nostalgic taste…