About a week before I got married, Mama and a few of her good friends gathered to impart some wisdom and share their experiences — collectively more than a thousand years worth. It was awesome. There are several things they said I will never forget. One is, “always ask how he liked the food after every meal.” (^_^)

When I first started this blog I was cooking for 1 — my husband — and very eager to add to that number.  Now that the family has grown I no longer put up a rating with each post. So most of the posts with a rating are from the early days. I will, however, continue to include the rating for guest posts.

Speaking of sharing, take a look around, if you like what you see, share with your friends, and come back often.

If you try a recipe, leave me some feedback, both good and not so good. It’s always great to hear from you. I’ve learned quite a bit from feedback. So don’t be shy, we can all learn together (^_^)

If you’ve got a great recipe please #ShareThelove!! Feel free to submit it in the form below. I would love to credit you when I post it, so I will link to your social network page when I mention your name. If you would prefer different let me know by adding a note in the recipe box.

It’s late morning on my wedding day and I’m finally up and about. So grateful we planned for an evening wedding, it was nice to sleep in. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, everyone around me seemed to be so busy with something or the other.

It’s almost lunch time and I’m famished. I had a funny thought — if I eat as much as I want to eat right now, will it digest in time for me to fit into my wedding dress in a few hours? — uhm, yeah. Whatever. I put that right out of my mind and went to the kitchen.

Mama was there (^_^) She immediately asked me what I wanted for lunch. It was my last meal at home, the last meal I would ever eat bearing the same last name as her. The last meal I would eat before joining the ranks of “Mrs” so and so [insert tear-jerking violins here].

I hadn’t thought much of it, plus I didn’t want to add more tasks to what she had to do that day so I opened the fridge and said I’d eat some leftovers. As I reached to pull them out she insisted that I go back to my room and continue resting, she would make me a plate and bring it to me. That was also the last time she would send me to my room; and the only time I would do it willingly! (^_^)

So an hour and some minutes later I’m up in my room still waiting for lunch. Hmmm. This is not like Mama. She knows I haven’t had breakfast. It can’t possibly take this long to… oh! She walked right through the door and interrupted my thought— that was a very good thing, the hunger was about to make me think some not so nice thoughts.

One glance at the plate, a whiff of the aroma that followed her into the room, and I wanted to cry. She made the whole meal from scratch.
That, is Pendo La Mama.

I have experienced this my entire life. Many many moments where Mama’s dinner made all the bad jokes from school go away; when the whiff of a favourite soup made studying much easier; when a belly full of her surprise treat made sleep more restful. To this day, nothing beats her cooking. And I don’t believe it’s because she’s a good cook — and she really is a good cook—I believe it’s because every meal she makes is love in action, packed full of affection.

Coming soon 🙂