A mother’s job is never done.  I’m cooking, cleaning, doing laundry and at the same time,  measuring the ingredients as I conjure up some of my authentic dishes.  For as long as I have been a cook, I have never had to measure anything.  I cook by sight, taste and texture.  An author’s  content should flow effortlessly, so that the reader fully comprehends all the instructions.  My recipes will be seamless. I want you to enjoy and appreciate the art of cooking, just as much as I do.  I want you to understand that cooking shouldn’t be considered a chore.  Cooking should be fun.

The first thing on the menu today was bread pudding. I prefer my bread pudding with a pudding-y texture, moist and melt in your mouth texture, not too hard or firm. It was just that, decadent and heavenly. I guess you can call it my breakfast pudding if you wish.

I started off with a fruit compote. It was laden with ripe bananas, bosc pears, golden delicious apples, cranberries and gourmet raisins. My grandma had the first slice, D’Angelo and I followed.

My picky eater husband even chimed in, and complimented me on the bread pudding. Kind of surprised me, because I didn’t even notice when he secretly took that slice.  He tends to shy away from anything that he is not accustomed to.  In the past, he hadn’t been interested in experimenting. He isn’t adventurous at all, but is making progress.  His culinary vision  is expanding and he is becoming more and more receptive to my authentic creations each day. Well….he’d  better, he has no other choice.  I think he is unaware that his wife, has a fan base that craves her authentic dishes, and only dreams of living in her household, or maybe even just next door.  I really do think, that it is to his advantage, to utilize  and devour all of, or as much of my wholesome, culinary goodness whilst he can.

After all, I am the Goddess of domestication.